Clipped Wings
by Brick The Third
Summary: Link is moved from foster home to foster home ever since his parents died in an accident when he was 8. He is now 16, and hasn't spoken in 8 years. Deemed a trouble child, he has no hope of ever settling down or being adopted, until Gaepora takes him under his wing. Zelda and Zant are both excited to have a younger brother, but Ghirahim isn't as pleased. [GhiraLink; Foster Home AU]
1. If I Believe You

Link clutched stubbornly at his ratty satchel as he was shoved out of the car and towards the front door of his new house. He was still dressed in the horrid clothes that the organization had provided for him that morning: a plain, wrinkled white shirt, brown pants, and overused black sneakers. Everything seemed to be just a little too small for him, but he had stopped complaining about these sorts of problems a long time ago.

Link stared at the house unenthusiastically. He didn't expect to stay here for more than a week: two, if he got lucky. When he showed no sign of speaking, they'll send him back with some sort of excuse, just like everybody else had done. He'd been jumping from foster home to foster home constantly since his parents had died when he was eight. So... eight years ago. He sighed. There was little hope that everything would suddenly change now.

The social worker, Pipit, gave him a clap on the back, jerking Link from his thoughts. "We're here, what are you waiting for?" He sounds tired. Link doesn't blame him. He guides the small boy up to the doorstep. "I had to pull some strings to get you here so fast. Please try to stay out of trouble with this family." With that, the social worker knocked on the door, not even pausing for a response from him anymore. Link stared at the ground, frustrated. It wasn't _his_ fault that nobody wanted a 16-year-old boy that doesn't talk, doesn't sleep and barely eats. He was like a broken toy.

The door opened and Link had to fight against the instinct to shrink back. The man was big in every sense of the word, and he looked like he could crush Link quite easily if he pleased. But he doesn't. He's giving the small boy a soft look, holding out his hand in greeting. "You must be Link. Please, come in, both of you." Link reluctantly takes his hand, not wanting to be rude. When he hesitates to step inside, Pipit lets out an impatient sigh and nudges him in, trying to be gentle but failing miserably.

"Pipit," the large man greeted his social worker. Link hangs back, letting them talk and looked down at his feet as a wave of exhaustion crashes over him.

"Gaepora," Pipit nods politely. "I'd love to stay and go into further details about all of this, but I'm afraid that we're quite busy at the moment, and I'm needed back at the office. I apologize for cutting this short. Like we discussed over the phone, Link's stay here won't be permanent. You will only be required to care of him until a family that is willing to adopt him is found." Link was pretty sure that neither of them believed that that would ever happen, but he didn't speak up.

Gaepora waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, I already know all of this," he chuckled. "There is no need to worry. Link is in good hands here, I'm sure he'll fit in well with the family." Link catches the bigger man's gentle look and he blinks, unable to hold his gaze as he drops his eyes to the ground.

Pipit seemed satisfied with that, relieved to have an excuse to leave earlier than he intended. He doles out his goodbyes, giving Link one last stern look before turning and shutting the door behind him with a sense of finality.

The countdown begins.

Gaepora turned to smile down at Link. "As you heard, my name is Gaepore. I have two other children that you'll meet in a moment. You're ... 16, correct?" At Link's nod, he chuckles. "Zelda just turned 17. She can be… a bit much at times. I wouldn't want you to be overwhelmed for the first few moments of your stay here. Zant is 18, almost 19 now. He's the opposite of Zelda when it comes to energy." He began to guide Link further into the house. "He joined our family years ago." When they turned a corner a little way down, the room opened up into a cozy looking living room. There was a fireplace against one wall that doubled as a television stand. on the adjacent wall, a set of shelfs held many different items. Dvds on the top shelf, what looked like Wii games on the middle, and books on the bottom. The room itself was painted a warm brown. In the middle of the room, a gray couch with four cushions sat.

Link's eyes were drawn to the two teenagers sitting on the couch.

The girl, whom he assumed was Zelda, had golden hair that was pulled back in an complicated braid. Her blue eyes lit up when she saw him, softening a moment later. Zant seemed considerably taller, with a tousle of black hair on top of his head. He gave Link a curious look, trying to get a read on him in a way that wasn't malicious but gentle. Link had to look away, unwilling to meet their eyes.

"Zelda, Zant, this is Link." Immediately, as if her father's words had given permission, Zelda was off of the couch and standing in front of Link. Her hands slowly reached out to brush his blond hair away from his face, and Link had to fight the urge to shrink away.

"I love your hair," she breathed, giving him a bright smile. "We'll get along great, you'll see," she giggled. Link looked down uncertainly. Once she realized that he wasn't about to start talking, she'd ignore him.

Zant didn't say anything, but gave him a friendly nod before he got to his feet and headed upstairs. Link watched him go. It was probably best to not make friends with these two anyway. It would just hurt more when he left.

Gaepora gave Zelda a warning look. "Dear, he's had a long drive: I'm sure that there will be plenty of time to become friends, but for now, I'm sure he'd like to rest." Link looks at his feet, embarrassed to have the attention on him. He could last. They didn't have to try to make him happy, even if resting sounded wonderful right now. Being alone sounded nice. Zelda gave him a soft smile, seeing the longing in his face. She tugged on his sleeves, catching his attention. She gave him a friendly smile, pulling him towards the stairs. He followed nervously.

"Come on," she encouraged. "I'll show you your room. You can rest up a little before supper." At the promise of some time alone, Link hurried after her, which made the older girl laugh knowingly. Eventually, they stopped outside of a door just past the top of the stairs. "It isn't anything fancy," she explained, pushing the door open. "But you have a closet and a desk, as well as a bookshelf. Oh! And some clean sheets. I hope you're okay with plain old gray."

When Link looked around, he gave her a hesitant thumb up, not wanting her to worry about his comfort. It wasn't like he'd be staying very long, anyway. But it was sweet that she cared.

Zelda gave him a curious look. "Man of little words, huh?" She joked, and Link looked away uncomfortably. Getting the hint, the older girl clapped her hands together. "Right! So, I'll leave you to it. Me or Dad will come get you when supper is ready!" With those parting words, she was gone, closing the door softly behind her

He let out a sigh, placing his bag on his bed and sitting down. He doubted that he'd be going to eat today. He didn't feel that great, but what else was new? He looked around the room. It was nicer than his last one: he even had a desk, which was a nice, unnecessary bonus. He pulled his few belongings out of his bag, finding places to put them, just for something to do.

For clothing, Link had a t-shirt, an extra pair of jeans, a ratty sweater, extra underwear and the clothes from the social services. Everything fit easily into his closet, with an embarrassing amount of room left over. His journal and pen were placed on his desk, alongside a worn out plastic photo frame that held a photo of him, at the age of 8, posing with his parents.

That's it. That's all that he owns to his name. Sitting on his bed, Link pulls his hair in front of him, playing with it anxiously. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this family. They hadn't pressured him to speak yet, but he'd barely been here an hour. There was still time. He figured that they would see just exactly how fucked up he was in a few days, when they realized that he could barely stomach a full meal, didn't sleep well and never spoke.

He sighed. He wasn't sure why he had unpacked: a fit of optimism, he supposed. But it just meant more work later, when he'd have to gather it back together and leave.

* * *

Link was writing in his journal when a soft knock sounded from the door, catching him by surprise. Usually, people would just let themselves in, not even bothering with knocking first. He waited, but when whoever was at the door didn't even try turning the knob, he closed his journal and got to his feet, creeping over to open the door. There, on the other side, smiling warmly, was Zelda. Link blinked at the older girl. "Hey, silly, supper is ready!" She chirped. He didn't move. "Dad has called everyone to eat together, which normally doesn't happen, but because it's your first night, he wanted to eat as a family!" She grabbed his hand, pulling him reluctantly down the stairs.

When they arrived in the kitchen, Link noticed that there was an extra person sitting around the table that he hadn't met yet. Alarm shot through him, and Zelda was quick to notice. She followed his gaze, face lighting up with realization. "Oh, right!" she said. "That's Ghirahim, Zant's best friend. He says with us sometimes." The older boy had snow white hair that fell down his shoulders, almost the same length as his own. His brown eyes flicker over to Link for just a moment before they sweep away, disinterested, as Zelda introduces them. Ghirahim dismisses him as if Link wasn't even there, smoothly continuing to chat with Zant. He obviously couldn't care less about the smaller boy, which was just fine with Link, who stuck as close to Zelda as he could. He watched nervously as she began to pile food onto a plate meant for him. He already knew that he wouldn't be able to eat any of that. He _might_ get a mouthful into him. Maybe.

When everyone was settled down and eating, or, in Link's case, pushing food around on his plate, Gaepora spoke up.

"Link..." the boy in question jerked up immediately, giving the man a fearful look from wide eyes. Gaepora chuckled. "Calm down, son, you're not in trouble." Link didn't relax. "...how do you like your room? Will it do until we can get some more things to fill it up and help you make it your own?" The young boy was confused as to why it mattered if he liked the room, or why they would decorate it as if it was _actually_ his, but he nodded nonetheless at Gaepora, not wanting to be rude. The man smiled, relieved.

Link felt a nudge to his side, and he turned to Zelda, who was beaming at him patiently. "Hey, silly, you should eat something," she urged gently. He shrank back as he felt eyes trained to him, uncomfortable with being the center of attention. His gaze skidded nervously at the faces around the table: Zant was giving him a curious look laced with concern, Gaepora's eyes were filled with sympathy, Zelda was hopeful, while Ghirahim was considering him through narrowed eyes, expression hard and unreadable. He quickly looked down at his food again. "Aren't you hungry?" he shrugged. "Just a few bites," Zelda encouraged.

He looked down at his food, feeling more sick than hungry in that moment. He looked up at Zelda, shaking his head softly. Her face fell into more of a stern look. "Come oooooooon," she encouraged, cause Link to frown. Why did it matter so much to her?

"Doesn't he _speak_?" A new voice scoffed, and Link jerked up, eyes landing on the source. Ghirahim's eyes were giving him a scornful look. He shifted uneasily, flushing at the blunt question.

"No, he doesn't" Gaepora answered, with a hint of warning in his tone. "And we are not going to force him to try until he is ready." Ghirahim's face took on a sulky expression and his gaze hardened, trained on Link, who shrank down into his seat.

Zelda prodded him to get his attention. "Just two mouthfuls, and then I'll stop bugging you," she bargained. Link stifled a sigh, relenting and taking the stupid spoon and nibbling slowly at the potatoes piled on the utensil. The faster he complied with the other girl's demands, the faster he could go to his room and escape the attention that was aimed at him.

* * *

Later that night, Link snuck downstairs, after he was sure that everybody had already gone to bed. His throat was dry and he really needed some water. Silent, he crept down the little hallway and turned into the kitchen doorway. What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks, freezing.

Ghirahim was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping at a glass of... something. Link didn't recognize the thick, brown drink, that looked kind of like ice cream, except... melted..? When brown eyes landed on the small boy that stood, unmoving, at the doorway, they hardened from a cautious relaxed glance into a steel glare. They stared at each other in silence for a few heart stopping moments. And then..

"What's so special about you anyway, hm?" he scoffed, getting to his feet. Link immediately took a step backwards. "You don't talk, you stayed in your room all day, and when you came down to eat, you looked ridiculous, as if you've never had a bite of food before. Your face twisted up. It's _weird_ ," he taunted, walking over to the alarmed boy, watching him sweat. "So why does everybody seem to like you already?" Ghirahim's voice is scathing, and he rolls his eyes when he received no answer. "You're not even worthy of my time, you worthless _idiot,_ " he spat, shoving roughly against Link as he left the kitchen and went upstairs, two stairs at a time.

Blue eyes followed Ghirahim's every move, waiting until the click of a door shutting sounded before moving. He hurried to grab a glass of water and gulp it down, taking up as little time as possible. He was not going to risk Ghirahim coming back downstairs while he was caught off guard again, and he only relaxed when he was back in his room, with the lock turned on. He stumbled to his bed, flopping onto the soft sheets with a groan.

He was not going to survive his stay here.

* * *

 **A few notes!**

 **I'm going to attempt to keep this updated as regularly as possible. At least once a week. It's all planned out already, as the original form of this is a roleplay that my friend and I are currently finishing up. It's just a matter of rewriting the back-and-forth replies into story format, which isn't too hard!**

 **This story will be eventual GhiraLink! Eventually.**

 **Link is based off of Breath of the Wild Link, with his long hair and cute baby face, while Ghirahim is just Ghirahim except with long hair this time around. There are reasons for everything!**

 **I figured that each chapter title would be the name of a song that encases the mood of the chapter.** **This one is "If I Believe You" by The 1975. (Mostly because I really love the song).**

 **Thoughts and criticism** **is always welcome, of course~ R &R as they say! **


	2. Home

The first few days went almost completely smoothly. Zelda managed to worm her way into Link's heart, constantly knocking at his door to get him to do stuff, and he'd be helpless to stop himself from trailing after her. She'd started doing his hair everyday, to both of their pleasure. Sometimes, when Link would tip toe hesitantly downstairs to look for her, he'd find her studying for a test of some sort, and he would join her. She'd teach him what she'd been learning, which both helped her study and delighted the young boy, who had been pulled from his education in his last few foster homes, for financial reasons.

He slowly began to get a picture of the daily routines of everyone. Gaepora would get up earlier than the rest of the family: Link could hear the floorboards creaking downstairs as he shuffled around as quietly as he could. He would start the coffee machine, open the morning paper, and make a small breakfast of usually cereal, from what Link could tell. Twenty minutes later, the door to the garage would open and an engine would start, slowly fading away as the man left for work. It would be a few hours until Zelda's door would open from across the hall, her soft footsteps descending down the stairs as she started to get ready for school. Sometimes, Ghirahim's door would open and join her, but mostly, he and Zant would leave a little later than Zelda. Usually, Zant would come back alone, and Link would wonder where Ghirahim had gone.

At first, Link was never left alone in the house. Gaepora would take time off of work to stay and watch him, or Zant would be left in charge with instructions to keep an eye on the young boy and try to get him to eat. But as the days went by, he was slowly trusted to be alone for short amounts of time. Normally, Link would be awake late into the night and up early in the morning, so he would hear what Gaepora would decide for each day. The house was usually quiet during the afternoon, with most of the family gone. Zelda would get back home around 4:00, usually alone. She would shuffle around the kitchen and then skip upstairs to check on him. They'd spend a few hours together before she had to leave, complaining about homework. At 6:00ish, Gaepora would get home and start supper. He, Zelda and Link would sit around the table, where the small boy would push food around and listen to conversation.

Around 10:00, Zelda and Gaepora would already be in their bedrooms, asleep, when Link would sometimes hear Zant's door opening, and his footsteps hurrying down the stairs. The door to the garage would open and he'd hear the boy driving away. There would usually be hours of silence, inwhere Link would drift into an uneasy sleep. The sound of two footsteps climbing the stairs would jerk him awake early in the morning, and he'd be awake again until he heard Gaepora waking up downstairs. And it would begin again.

One Friday night, he'd come downstairs, unable to sleep, to find Zelda sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her and a bowl of popcorn on her lap, her eyes glued to the T.V. The moment that she noticed Link standing there, unsure of what to do, she pulled him into her arms and tucked the blanket around him, too. They had binge watched an entire season of "How I Met Your Mother" that night, staying up until 3:00 am. They probably would have kept going, but they were both falling asleep, and when Gaepora had gotten up to use the bathroom and noticed them still there, he had ushered them up to their bedrooms for the night. Link hadn't noticed the soft smile aimed his way from the large man, too busy trying to keep himself from tripping and falling flat on his face in his sleepy state.

Link hadn't seen much of Zant since that first day, the older boy seeming to enjoy time to himself. When he did catch glimpses of the tall boy, he was always with Ghirahim, so Link kept his distance. So far, Ghirahim more or less left him alone. Sometimes, he would give him a shove, or tease him about things, like the way that he ate, or his silence. Mostly, Link could avoid him, and that would be that.

Whenever he saw Gaepora, who would greet him with a friendly smile and a few words of welcome, Link's stomach would twist painfully and he'd begin to feel sick. Every day, he expected the older man to call him over and inform him that social services had been called and that he would be picked up the next day. But it never happened, and he was left struggling to calm down, thoroughly confused.

Once again, Link found himself creeping down the stairs during the dark hours of the night, wanting to grab something to eat in solitude. He had quickly become uncomfortable with eating in front of the others once Ghirahim had started to taunt him about the way that he ate. His alternative was to eat only when he was alone, in peace, where nobody could laugh at him.

He had just finished whipping himself up a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal, and was in the process of eating it, when he heard the garage door open and shut. He froze, sliding down in his chair as he prayed that the person would just walk past the kitchen and not notice him. When he heard a set of footsteps pass the entrance to the room and head up the stairs, Link was about to relax, but his relief was short lived as a second pair of footsteps tapped towards him. The small boy swung around, coming face to face with...

Zant.

Link relaxed slightly, unsure of how he felt about Zant, or what the older boy thought of him. He swallowed nervously, but Zant just gave him a friendly smile. "Hi, Link," He greeted, voice soft as he headed for the fridge. Link watched him warily as he grabbed a carton of orange juice and poured himself a glass. Taking a gulp, he wandered and sat down across from Link. "...how are you? ..Settling in, I mean," he mumbled kindly. Link gave him a nod and a shrug, looking down at his half finished bowl of cereal. He couldn't eat in front of Zant, especially when the older boy was just sitting there, watching him.

"Good. I hope that you end up liking it. Here, I mean.. " He smiled, adding in a mumbling, "It's nice having somebody else at home." This caused Link to blink in surprise and glance over at the taller boy. He hadn't known if Zant had liked him or not until now, so it was nice to hear that the older boy was genuinely pleased to have him here. "You don't talk... Dad explained to us. We won't make you, if you were worried," he went on, taking another sip of juice. "Zelda is worried about your eating, though. You should listen to her, she only wants you to be healthy.." Link nods that that. He didn't want Zelda to worry. The two of them had grown incredibly close in the past few weeks, and it meant much more to him than he could express to her. He'd always wanted siblings, but his parents hadn't wanted another child, and while the other foster homes had usually had other children, they had never been interested in forming a relationship with Link, preferring to ignore him. So Link would do anything to keep Zelda's affections with him. He privately promised himself that he would eat a little more the next time he was with her.

He slid a look over to Zant, pushing down feelings of longing. Zelda was amazing, clearly, but Link had always secretly wanted an older brother more than anything. He had to force himself not to get too excited: just because Zant had talked to him once, did not mean that he wanted Link around longer than he had to be.

The taller boy got to his feet, his glass now empty, and went to put it in the sink. "If you need to talk... or to just be around somebody, you can come to me." The words were a gentle offering, and Link was touched, looking down at his cereal and trying to hold back a blush. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand ruffles his hair affectionately, but when he twisted around to give Zant a curious look, the older boy was gone.

After that night, Ghirahim had seemed hell-bet on making Link's life miserable. One weekday, Ghirahim had come back earlier than anybody else, and had caught Link lounging on the couch and writing in his diary. He had jumped at the chance to taunt the boy.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, voice casual as he jumped on the couch, causing Link to flinch and scramble away from him. He gave the small boy an annoyed look, stretching out without any consideration for him. "Were you _always_ this useless? Is that why your parents gave you up?" he grinned as Link immediately grew tense, curling into himself as if he could block out Ghirahim's words. The boy snickered, realizing that he had found a sore spot. "Where are they now? Probably enjoying their life without you..." he sighed, giving Link a nasty look. "I know that I _was_. Ugh. I see why the other foster homes kept kicking you out, and I wish Gaepora would come to his sense and do the same. You're not welcome here, you _idiot._ Get a hint. They just pity you. What, did you think that they c _ared_ about some kid like you? _"_ Link bolts off of the couch and up the stairs, in tears and trembling, before Ghirahim could say anything else that would worsen his insecurities and fears.

It didn't stop there, either. If the two boys were passing each other in the hallways, Ghirahim would shove against him roughly. Every time, the lighter boy would fall into the wall with a silent grunt. If Zelda did his hair, Ghirahim would wait until the older girl had left the room before tugging on the boy's hairdo, taunting him. There was a day when Zelda had a big test coming up, and Link was sitting with her while she studied. Ghirahim had come out of the kitchen and quickly noticed the two sprawled together, relaxed, on the couch, and crept over to the bookshelf behind them. Pulling a heavy book out, he tossed it hard onto the ground, cackling with satisfaction as Link jumped ten feet into the air from the loud bang. He scurried away when Zelda had given him a dirty look, but it didn't stop him from knocking things over frequently when the young boy least expected it.

So it was with a rush of relief when Gaepora announced that the family would be going on a shopping trip to get Link some new clothing. Without Ghirahim. The small boy was over the moon at the thought of a peaceful outing without having to worry about being pushed around every minute of the day.

The drive was a short one, taking no longer than 20 minutes, but by the way that Zelda jumped out of the car to pull Link into the star, one would think that they had been stuck in the moving vehicle for days. He tried to dig his heels into the ground, shooting desperate looks back at Gaepora and Zant, but the older girl was having none of it. Within minutes, a pile of clothes were getting dumped into Link's arms, growing steadily by the minute. Blue jeans, a green t-shirt, brown jacket, green beanie, blue scarf, boots, graphic t's, pajamas... the small boy was soon struggling to hold them all, almost disappearing under them.

Gaepora chuckled, placing a hand on Zelda's shoulder to stop her. Zant gave Link a thumbs up, holding back laughter as he wishes him luck and then wanders off. "Alright, alright, sweetie, let's let Link try on what he has now and go from there." Link nodded vigorously in his agreement, giving Zelda a pleading look as she pouted. Eventually, she gave in, steering him towards the changing rooms.

"Fine, fine, but you have to try them all out," she instructed, gently shoving him into a stall. "Tell me when you're done, okay? I bet you're going to look so cute!" she squealed, leaving him to it. The moment the door clicked shut, Link sagged against it, puffing and looking at the pile of clothes on the chair across from him. Reaching back to tighten his pony tail, he tried to figure out how much everything would add up too. Guilt rose in him, and he knew that he needed new clothing, but he hated that Gaepora would have to spend money on some kid that wasn't even his own child.

When Zelda didn't hear any sounds of shuffling coming from his stall, she knocked on his door, threatening to go in there and dress him herself. She didn't sound like she was joking, and Link wasn't about to test her words. He quickly begins to pull off his own clothes and digging through the pile. The numerous pairs of jeans as well as the boots fit him well, as does the jacket. What Link immediately falls in love with, though, is a green sweater that seemed to cascade off of his thin frame, enveloping him in warmth like a blanket.

In the end, he left the changing room with almost everything still in his arms, which pleased Zelda. To his relief, she seemed satisfied, and Gaepora gave the tired looking boy a bright smile, suggesting that they find Zant and check out. When the four of them arrived at the cash register, Link had to look away so that he couldn't see the price flashing up on the screen as each item was scanned. He'd rather not know.

The drive home was more or less quiet, with Gaepora concentrating on the road because of the rain pounding down hard, having seemed to come out of nowhere. Zelda had the radio on low, and Link was resting his head against the car window, lightly dozing. Zant seemed to be watching the rain falling and the scenery going by from his own window.

The peace was shattered, however, when they began to pull into the driveway, and they noticed a figure standing on the front deck, dripping wet. With a gasp, Zant climbed out of the car, quickly followed by everybody else. Lnk struggled to stay beside Zant as the older boy asked Ghirahim what was wrong, wondering why he would stand outside in the rain for so long instead of trying to find shelter.

The small boy doesnt have the chance to ponder for long, though, because without warning, Ghirahim's hands were on his shoulders, shoving him roughly into the mud. Link winced, mouth opening in a silent screech as the wet dirt folded over him, splattering his face and encasing his entire lower half.

" _This idiot is what's wrong!"_ The older boy shouted. "He arrives, and suddenly, he's your _precious, perfect golden boy!_ Well I've had enough of _you_ and your _traumatized, pretty boy act!_ _**Get over it!**_ " he snarled. "I don't know what happened to your family, and _I don't_ _**care**_ , but stop acting like you don't have one anymore! _**At least you have one, you idiot deadbeat!**_ _You've taken away the only thing resembling family that I've ever had!"_

Link stares with wide eyes at Ghirahim, who is shaking and trying not to cry. The other boy glares back at him, looking as though he wanted to do worse things to Link, but he just whips around and runs off into the rainy night.

"Ghirahim!" Zant shouts, running after his best friend.

Link sits in the mud, trembling as he watched Zant disappear from sight. He was caked in mud, drenched from the rain that pounded harshly down, and holding back tears. Eyes wide, he felt a suffocating guilt churn inside of him, mixing with his fear for the two boys. Ghirahim had never been welcoming of him, but after hearing him explode, Link thought that he was finally beginning to understand a little where that mean streak is coming from.

This was all his fault. He wasn't sure exactly what Ghirahim's family life looked like, but he had been there first, and then Link had just waltzed in and seemed to snatch everything away from the older boy, threatening his place in the family.

Zelda kneeled on the ground beside him, her skirt soaked with mud, trying to wipe the dirt from the smaller boy's face. Gaepora stood and watched the tree-line, his face taunt with worry, and Link felt his guilt soar, overwhelming him and making him feel sick. The three of them stayed frozen where they were, waiting, until they finally flimpsed Zant slowly trudging back towards them.

Alone.

The tall boy didn't say anything, just shook his head in defeat. When he reached them, his eyes were red, and he was panting from the effort of running, but it had been clear from the start that Ghirahim was going to outrun him, and that he didn't intend to come back.

Seeing it confirmed, though, lit a fire of panic inside of Link. He stared at Zant for a moment before letting his gaze flicker around him to the worried faces of the others. He didn't understand exactly what was going on, only that Ghirahim leaving was affecting everybody immensely, and that Link had fucked everything up.

He pushed himself to his feet and began to desperately run the way that Ghirahim had gone. He _had_ to fix this somehow. this famiyl had been so nice to him, and he realized that he loved it here and didn't want to be sent away, which was sure to happen if he didn't get the older boy back. Link figured that Zant hated him now and would go to Gaepora to insist that the boy who had driven his best friend away be sent back into the foster system. Tears are barely contained in his eyes as he bolted, and he was slipping in the mud, but he _couldn't_ face the Skyward family again until he had Ghirahim behind him. He didn't want to go.

Zelda and Gaepora called after him, but it didn't register in his panic stricken mind until he felt hands grabbing him, pulling him to a stop. Zant's arms encircled him, gently so as not to hurt him, as he restrained the smaller boy against his chest. "You can't go after him," he puffed as Link squirmed desperately in his hold. "Ghirahim's gone back to his father's house, and he doesn't want anybody to follow him there." The boy in question is trying really hard not to cry as his heart pounds fearfully against his ribcage. He didn't want to get sent back, he can't go back, he can't... "His father is violent and drinks too much. You can't follow him, Link."

That confession shook Link to the core and he finally broke and fell limp, beginning to cry. That was even _worse_. Ghirahim was probably going to get hurt and then everybody would hate him and he'd be shipped off to the next house where nobody would want him, either.

Zant justs hugged him tightly, and the four of them slowly shuffled inside the house to dry off. Once they were inside, Gaepora left the room, returning with a small sack of towels. He passed one to Zelda before turning to hold one out to Link.

"Here, son," he offered, voice soft: no doubt in order to avoid further scaring the already frightened boy. "Come dry off and I'll get you a change of clothes."

Link's eyes immediately widened, and he was quick to shake his head and press closer to Zant. He refused to leave the side of the older boy: he felt guilty and somehow had to show him how sorry he was: he hadn't meant to drive his best friend away and into danger. The only thing that managed to keep the fragile boy from dipping into hysterics was his proximity to Zant.

The boy in question nudged him. "Come on," he coaxed, his voice a murmur. "You need to get dry." In a fit of panic, he threw his arms around Zant and held on to him tightly, shaking his head vehemently. He tried a few more times to get Link to let go of him, but when he wasn't making any progress, he just sighed and gave up. Taking the towel from Gaepora, he busied himself with silently drying off the smaller boys' hair. Link let him, embarrassed and scared that Zant was angry with him. He realized that, if he was, clinging to him was probably only making it worse. He had just began to pull away from the boy when Zant's tired interrupted him.

"It's okay, Link. You didn't do anything wrong. Ghirahim's... difficult. But once he trusts you... he's the best friend that you'll ever have."

Immediately, Link let himself fall back into Zant's side, tense but slightly reassured. Slowly, they managed to get him dry, even managing to persuade him away from Zant long enough for both boys to change clothes. He was quickly glued back to the tall boy's hip when they were done, though, his presence like an anchor: strong and steady, even though Link knew that he was worried sick, too.

Gaepora had disappeared again, this time to start supper, and the three teenagers settled themselves on the couch. Link tucked himself comfortably in Zant's side, his face turned into the older boys' warmth while Zelda quickly fetched a hairbrush and began to gently comb the mud and knots out of his hair. If Link wasn't so stressed and on the verge of tears, he would have probably fallen asleep.

When a voice announced that the food was ready, Link tagged along behind the others as they made their way into the kitchen, though he didn't even grab a plate for himself, knowing full well that he wasn't going to be able to stomach any amount of food right now. The entire dinner is tense, the only sounds being the clink of the forks against the plates. Link caught Zelda looking at him with pity, but she didn't urge him to eat anything. His chair was pushed up against Zant's, as close as it could possibly be without overlapping, and he was leaning against the taller boy, caught up in his own tumbling, crushing thoughts.

The sound of Gaepora clearing his throat pulled Link back into awareness, and he shifted nervously. "Link?... I wanted to talk about something with you. I know that... this isn't the proper time and place, but I feel that you deserve honesty."

Link flinched, his heart stopping as he went as white as a ghost. He immediately dropped his head and dug his nails into his palms to stop himself from crying, because he knew already where this was going and it hurt so much more this time. he'd been here so much longer than the other foster homes, and he'd actually gotten close to Zelda, even starting to form a relationship with Zant, and now it was about to be snatched from his hands. He couldn't look up at any of them, feelings of betrayal and heartbreak pulsing through him. They were sending him away because he had fucked up, and he didn't know how to fix this. His breathing had picked up as his panic slowly climbed, consuming him. He had known that this was too good to be true: that it wouldn't last because it never did, and he was always thrown away in the end. But he wasn't ready.

"...We want to adopt you into our home. If you want that, of course. I know that Ghirahim has been making you feel as if you don't belong here, but...if you will have us, we want to officially welcome you to stay." Gaepora smiled softly, as though he'd been holding onto that for awhile, but Link was frozen as he slowly processed the words. He waited for the punchline, for somebody to jump up and say "haha, got you!", but nobody moved. The silence stretched on and Link's eyes filled with tears as he struggled to figure it out.

Why would them want _him_? He was terrible: he didn't speak, barely slept or ate, he was boring and he has done nothing but burden them and drive Ghirahim away. NOBODY wanted him, he was _broken_! But, God, he couldn't say no, could he? He was incredibly selfish and wanted this so badly. He ached for a family that could make him feel as happy as he had been when mom and dad had been alive. He didn't understand why this family had offered their home to him, but he wasn't sure anymore if it mattered

He opened his mouth, wishing that he could speak and give them his words in gratitude for everything they've done for him, and everything that they are doing, but no sound falls out and he eventually just closes it again and nods. Looking down nervously, he hoped with his entire being that this wasn't a joke.

Gaepora smiled wider. "You do?!" He heaves a sigh of relief when Link gives another hesitant nod. "Thank goodness. I was worried that you wouldn't want to stay because of Ghirahim or any number of things... but I'[m so glad. I asked Zelda and Zant a month ago, and it was an enthusiastic yes; we just want you to be happy here."

Link flushed at the confession pouring off of the man, looking instead up at the two other teenagers. Zelda was smiling and Zant had reached over to softly ruffle Link's hair. The small boy felt overwhelmed with the warmth and affection, but it was a welcomed feeling. A genuine smile lit up his face as he leaned into Zant, trying to wrap his head around everything.

He would have a family again, this time with two older siblings. Maybe everything would be okay again. Maybe he would be able to find his words. Maybe he'd be allowed to go back to school.

"Now, I haven't talked to Ghirahim about this. I know that things have been tense, especially after tonight, but I hope that we can speak to him soon... I feel quite sorry for how we've ignored him. I just hope that he's not hurt."

Zant nodded slowly at his father's words. "...He hasn't seen his dad for a week," he added, wringing his hands in worry. "Demise wont be expecting him... I'm worried." Zelda stared at her plate, picking at her macaroni. Link stared down at his hands, his thoughts whirling heavily as his excitement dropped suddenly. Ghirahim was not going to be happy when he was told about the adoption. Nonetheless, Link hoped that the older boy wouldn't be hurt. He didnt know anything about Demise, but judging by the serious and worried mood that blanketed the table, he figured that the man was not exactly gentle.

Alarm shot through him. If Ghirahim came back hurt, would _Link_ be blamed? Would everybody change their minds about adopting him? His stomach flipped and he began to feel sick at the thought.

Almost as if sensing his unease, Zant held him tighter. "But no matter what... we want you to stay." Both Zelda and Gaepora nodded firmly. "He's my best friend, but... he's bullying you. It's not your fault. We've been letting him down... and we're sorry."

Tears filled Link's eyes at Zant's words, and Zelda got up and ran to hug both of them. They tell him that they're sorry and that when they see Ghirahim again. they'll make things right.

The rest of the supper went by in a relatively relaxed manner. When they all finally disperse to go to bed for the night, it is with mixed feelings. On one hand, they were happy and excited for Link's adoption, but on the other, they battled with the stress and worry over Ghirahim's well being. When Link has to go to his own bed and unglue himself from Zant for good, he almost feels naked, but the older boy promised that he'd be there at breakfast the next morning.

The soothes Link slightly, but he's still uneasy as he turned, alone, into his own room. He didn't fight or insist that Zant come with him, despite how much he might want to, because he didn't want to cause trouble.

When Link lays down and manages to fall asleep, he is plagued with a violent nightmare that jerks him awake again, eyes glimmering with tears. It's too much for the small boy and he bolts out of his room, skidding to a stop in front of Zant's door and forcing himself to timidly knock. Trembling, he's scared that he isn't supposed to be doing this, but the fear of being alone is worse. He's able to work himself into a fit by the time that Zant opens the door and sees him.

Without a word, he guides Link inside, no questions asked. He just brought the boy to his bed and gently coaxed him to lay down before fetching extra blankets from his closet, in order to ward off the particularly cold night. He laid down beside the shaking boy, not demanding any type of explanation. He just offers the comfort of his presence as the younger boy buried himself into Zant's body and cried himself back to sleep, too tired drained from the day's events and the nightmare to keep himself awake.


	3. Ocean Eyes

When Link woke up the next morning, Zant was already up and ready to eat. Rubbing his eyes, the small boy sat up and pulled the blanket around his shoulders before sleepily stumbling over to the other boy. He heard a chuckle. "You can go back to sleep, Link," Zant mumbled, ruffling his bed head. Link shook his head stubbornly, yawning wide. He didn't want to separate from him. Zant didn't argue, he just smiled and opened the door, leading the way downstairs as Link stumbled behind him, stumbling to wake up fully.

It was a surprise when Zant stopped out of the blue, and Link found himself bumping into the taller boy. He blinked his eyes open, tugging with confusion on his shirt to get his attention, but Zant just continued to stare straight ahead. When Link followed his gaze, he froze.

There, sitting at the kitchen table alone with a bowl of cereal and a black eye, was Ghirahim.

Link was instantly wide awake, alarm bells going off as he fought with his instinct to turn around and flee back up the stairs. Instead, he shuffled closer to Zant, telling himself that he was safe for as long as the older boy was there with him. Ghirahim would not physically hurt him, but his human shield could not protect him from the way that the other boy glared at him; like if Link was burning alive and Ghirahim had a pitcher of water, he'd drink it mercilessly. He stared with wide eyes like a deer caught by a hunter, frozen in place, his eyes taking in Ghirahim's condition.

The older boys' black eye was literally pure black and took up almost half of his face. He wasn't wearing his jacket, the article of clothing lost, and his shirt was stained with blood splatters, bruises peeking to form underneath the fabric. To put it simply, he was beat to shit. Link felt incredibly queasy, knowing exactly how those came to be. He couldn't wrap his head around the implication: Link had been through too many foster homes to count, and while most of them had been incredibly neglectful, and a few emotionally abusive, he had never experienced physical abuse.

Ghirahim snatched the last of his bowl of cereal, spitting at the two boys with venom. "What, are you two _fucking_ now just to spite me?!" Without giving Zant the chance to reply, and without another glance at them, he booked it upstairs. A moment later, the sound of a door banging sounded and Zant finally seemed to relax a little bit.

Link wrapped his arms around himself tightly, leaning against Zant as he seeked reassurance and comfort. e was concerned about his foster brother, wondering what he thought about the sight of Ghirahim sos roughed up. The taller boy just sighed and looked down at Link with a troubled expression. "...That didn't go well. I ... I don't know if I should go talk to him. He's still a mystery to me... even though we've been friends for years... Do you think I should?"

Having Zant ask for his advice warmed Link's heart, and despite the circumstances, he felt a rush of happiness. He had always wanted an older brother, and was beyond thrilled that Zant had seemed to accept him as a possible future family member. Unconsciously, his hands drifted towards the older boy, clutching timidly at the hem of his shirt as he pondered the question.

He wanted Zant to stay, there was no doubt about that. He was fairly certain that sticking with the older boy was they key to being safe from Ghirahim's wrath, but he was also sure that keeping his foster brother down here with him would just make the other boy hate him more, which was the opposite of what he wanted to do. So he looked down and nodded to indicate that Zant should go after Ghirahim, ignoring the bad feeling that pooled in his stomach. Zant nodded and hurried up the stairs to implement damage control, even though both of them knew that it probably wouldn't do any good.

Link wandered further into the kitchen and grabbed a container of watermelon out of the fridge, nibbling at the fruit. He wanted to try and make himself eat a little more, because Zelda had been telling him how good he was doing, and he wanted to keep it up and make her happy. He didn't get very far, though, before the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Ghirahim's voice shouting startled him. The older boy would wake up the whole house soon...

"Why should I even bother to stay here when you have more than enough fun with _that leech_? What do you care if I get myself killed?! I will do what I see fit! _JUST TRY AND STOP ME!_ "

Zant's voice didn't drift downstairs, but his footsteps were close behind Ghirahim as he kept an eye on the other boy and freaked out a little bit. The two sounded like they were getting closer to the kitchen, and the small boy that stood frozen in the middle of said room did not like that. Panic seized him and he tripped over a kitchen chair in his hurry to stick himself in a corner hidden by the isle in front of it. Trembling, he crouched down and made himself as small as possible, praying that if they _did_ enter the kitchen, that he would be hidden enough. With another wave of fear, Link wished that he had just stayed safely locked away in his own or in Zant's room, where no danger could come to him. Where he would be safe.

Ghirahim's footsteps got to the bottom of the stairs and then immediately turned towards the kitchen, much to Link's dread and alarm.

 _Oh no._

Zant stuttered his name, but the other by was quick to interject. "I will not apologize! He doesn't deserve an apology, let alone an ounce of my time, on top of _everyone else's!_ " He spat, falling completely silent a moment later as he entered the room. Link's heart stuttered as, too late, he realized that Ghirahim was listening for _his breathing._ Quickly, he slapped a hand over his mouth and willed himself to be quiet.

" _I know you're in here, boy._ "

His heart stopped and, despite himself, his breathing began to give him away, turning into panicked gasps that were too loud and seemed to fill the room.

 _Oh god no._

Link shrank further into his corner, back pressed flush against the wall as he prayed for Ghirahim to give up and go away. If it came to a fight, the smaller boy was _screwed:_ he'd be screwed even if he was in a perfectly healthy _which he wasn't._

Zant was fighting to corral Ghirahim away from Link and from the kitchen. "Don't do this. Please, Ghirahim. He doesn't want to fight with you." He reached for Ghirahim's arm, but the older boy pulled it away.

" _Well, the imbcecile should have thought of that eons ago! What do you take me for?! Someone who will lie down and accept this misery?! Someone who will let him take away everything I've ever worked for?!_ " Ghirahim stepped forward and entered Link's line of sight. The boy looked bruised. Battered.

Furious.

In the same moment, his eyes met Link's, and a sick smile graced his face, eyes glinting. " _I will beat you to within an inch of your life, and savor it._ "

Link feels like he's about ot throw up, his face pale with fear as he scrambled to his feet and searched desperately for a way to escape. Only now did he realize that backing himself into a corner might have been a bad idea. The only way out from where he stood was the entrance, which Ghirahim was blocking. The only way to possibly get past him was to try and run, which he wasn't sure that he couldn't do because his body was trembling like a leaf.

Tears pricked at his eyes as he attempted to hype himself up. All he had to do was outrun him. He could do that. He _had_ to do that. He had been on the elementary track team years ago and he'd used to be fast.

Before he could commit to running, however, Ghirahim was grasping his throat. Link struggled to break the stronger boy's hold, and Zant fought to pull him off his foster brother with all of his strength, but neither of them were athletes. Link thrashed in panic as Ghirahim reeled back to punch him, only dimly registering when Zant yelled for Gaepora. The only thing he noticed as Ghirahim's fist connected with his face was that he had _cold-blooded_ murder in his eyes.

Sharp pain bloomed on Link's cheekbone, and tears immediately sprung in his eyes when his head painfully hit the wall from the force of the punch.

Ghirahim kept going, hitting him twice, and then three times. A punch to his jaw, a kick on his stomach. Four. Five.

Link was sobbing.

The older boy thrashed, clawing tooth and nail to hurt him more, hit him harder. When he was yanked away, it was jerky and sudden, the boy being pulled into a hold as he continued to fight and growl. Gaepora restrained him, repeating for the older boy to calm down, to stop, to rest and relax. The lack of Ghirahim's hand on his throat left Link stumbling, but Zant was quick to catch him and hold him steady.

Oh god, he was going to be sick. He choked on his silent sobs, the scratches and punches and kicks throbbing painfully wherever they connected on his body and, for the first time, Zant's presence was suffocating instead of comforting. Oh god, he had caused so much trouble. He had created a scene and had woken everybody up and now he was probably going to get in trouble.

Sobbing harder, he flung himself away from Zant and bolted up the stairs, fleeing into his room. When the door swung shut behind him, he panicked and flew into the closet, where he collapsed and scooted into a corner to curl up and allow the sobs to wrack his body.

He was too much trouble, more trouble than he was worth and now Gaepora would see that and change his mind about adopting him. He always found a way to fuck everything up. Ghirahim hated him and rightfully so because he was such a horrible person. He shouldn't have come here. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. He was so incredibly stupid and nobody wanted him anymore and he needed to get that through his thick skull already.

Crying harder, he buried his sore, bruised face in the fluffy scarf that Zelda had picked out for him when they had gone shopping.

Almost on cue, Link heard a gentle knock before the door clicked open. Soft footsteps touched the carpet as somebody slowly wandered inside, calling out.

"...Link?" Zelda whispered, her tone carefully quiet and gentle, as though she were trying to soothe a frightened animal. "...you don't have to come out of your room... I just wanted to check if you were okay. Can I see you?"

Link didn't move. In fact, when Zelda had started to speak, he had froze immediately, never relaxing. It would probably be better for her to just... leave him alone and forget that he was there, just like every other foster sibling had done to him in the other homes. He wasn't that important, and she should realize that sooner rather than later. More tears soaked into the now damp scarf that was clutched tightly in his hands.

"Um..." Zelda mumbled, sniffling as she seemed to figure out what to say. "I... I'm _so sorry_. I'm the one that let him in, early this morning. He was... in so much pain. He lost his jacket, he could barely walk... He said that... as soon as he got to his father's house, him and his drinking buddies bet him up..." She began to sob, and Link's heart pounded with alarm, twisting at the sound of it. "I-I didn't know... I thought he'd be okay after some sleep and medicine... I'm _r-really_ sorry, Link."

No... She was upset and blaming herself, and that wasn't fair because it was _Link's_ fault, not hers. Nervously, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled over to the door of the closet, opening it slowly to peek out. Zelda's face was in her hands as she sobbed, still in her nightgown and bare feet. Her hair was messy and she was shivering: whether the cause was the cold or her shame, he didn't know, but he grabbed a blanket anyway and slid out of the closet, wanting to assure her that it wasn't her fault and to stop her from crying.

When she finally looked up, Link crept forward slightly and held out the blanket to her, his heart breaking in half at the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

"O-oh gosh..." her hands came up to cover her mouth as she took in his wounds, more tears spilling out of her eyes. Link shrank back, remembering that he probably looked like shit. His mouth opened and closed, longing to reassure her that he was fine, that she shouldn't cry, but as usual, nothing came out. Stepping back into his closet slightly, his guilt rose. He hadn't meant to make Zelda cry again. Guilt seemed to tear him apart as he clutched the blanket between his fingers. How did he fix this?! He had never had to comfort people in other foster homes, so he had no idea. She sniffled again, but her tears kept pouring. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry sleepyhead... Ghirahim has n-never done anything like that before... I don't understand why... why you? Why now? ...He can be a huge jerk sometimes b-but he's never gotten violent." She wept and Link broke all over again, swallowing hard.

"I... um..." Zelda stammered. "I brought the first aid kit..."

Link swallowed again, glancing nervously at the door before his eyes slid to the kit that sat on the floor beside Zelda. He had never had somebody else offer to take care of him, not after his parents had passed. He missed the feeling.. so he nodded and quietly stepped forward, crouching down until he was sitting on the floor in front of her.

She still seemed horrified at how badly Link was hurt, and her eyes widened when the smaller boy got closer and she could see the extent of the wounds closely. But she soon sat down and started to pamper him, lightly touching his cheeks to turn his head this way and that, feeling for any bruises. Her warm touch, and how she bandaged him up with care and love, soothed him. He craved this caring affection, having been denied it for years and years, so it wasn't surprising to him when his eyes slid closed pleasantly. After making sure he was tended to, she crept downstairs to get some ice from the freezer, and wrapped it in towels from the bathroom to help his pain. Link took the ice from her and fiddled with it. The cold was soothing on his fingertips, and he carefully lifted it up to his face with a breath of relief, as the pounding seemed to stop when the makeshift ice pack was pressed against it. He gave her a grateful look. "...They're talking to him now. I still can't believe he did this..."

The small boy frowned. Ghirahim had _never_ done something like this? Ever? So it was just with him?

"I mean, I can imagine him doing it in self-defense... his dad is such an asshole," she gossiped, and Link had to stifle a laugh at hearing her curse. "No, really, I've met him... He's awful. But to do something like this, just out of jealousy?... that doesn't seem like him. There's gotta be something else to it... otherwise, he wouldn't have hurt you this bad..." she frowned, and her train of thought seemed to carry on without him, but his own halted as soon as he heard noise on the stairs. His head jerked towards the door.

Ghirahim came up slowly, every part of him stiff with pain. When Link's eyes found him, he stilled, warning bells going off in his head. Zelda followed his eyeline before stilling too, one hand reaching out to her foster brother. Ghirahim stopped and stared at him coldly, his eyes dark and emotionless. But without a word, he continued on into his own room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Link let out the breath that he was holding with a shiver at the look in Ghirahim's eyes. He cradled his ice pack, staring at the ground as he wondered what on earth the three boys had talked about in the kitchen to make Ghirahim go from murderous to emotionless. He shot a look over at Zelda, who seemed just as befuddled as him, if not more. She kept staring in the direction that Ghirahim had went, half concerned and half mystified. Eventually, though, she closed the first aid kit and stood up, dusting her knees. Then, she reached out a hand for Link.

"I'm... gonna go see dad. Did you want to come with me?

Link stared at her hand, conflicted. On one hand, he was scared to leave his room. The last time that he had done that, he'd gotten beaten up. On the other hand, though, he didn't want to be alone, with Ghirahim across the hall...

He nodded and took her hand as she pulled him up, wincing as his battered body protested. Fuck, that boy knew how to fight..

Zelda led him downstairs and into the living room, holding his hand the entire trip. When they got there, they found Zant and Gaepora on the couch, silent and concerned. Gaepora had his head in his hands, much the same way as Zelda did earlier, and when he raised it to meet the two of them coming downstairs, there were tears in his deep blue eyes. Zant rose from his seat to get a good look at Link, assessing his injuries with worry.

"What happened?" Zelda whispered. Gaepora sighed.

"I can't say, my dear, I can't say. After he calmed down, he didn't say much. He just... asked that if we decide to send him away, to pay his bus fare to the city. Demise... has kicked him out. He's fully on his own."

Link listened, carefully inching away from Zelda and closer to Zant as the older girl spoke with her father. He pressed against his foster brother as the taller boy's hand found his hair and played with it absentmindedly. He frowned at Gaepora's words, feeling a stirring of understanding in his stomach. Well, that explained why Ghirahim was so angry: he had just been beat to shit himself and then banned from his own home by his own father. That might make anybody a little angry.

Nobody deserved that.

Zelda seemed horrified at the idea of sending Ghirahim off on his own. "Dad, you're not... _considering_ it, are you?" But Gaepora couldn't look his daughter in the eyes.

"...I'm not sure, sweetheart. I know that this is the first time this has happened, but I also can't stand my boys hurting anyone... not to mention you, Link. I'm not sure yet, if this is so serious as to consider... serious measures. But I'm concerned."

Zant leaned down a little. "...I told him. That you're staying and getting adopted," he murmured into the smaller boy's ear. Link had been listening to everything with his eyes half closed, Zant's gentle fingers in his hair relaxing him, but now he tensed a little bit, feeling a stab of worry. What did Ghirahim think about the news?

"...He seemed suprised by that," Gaepora admitted. "Which worries me, as he was willing to do something like this without that knowledge." The man stared at his hands, quiet for a moment. "...He's a very strong and capable young man. If only he would allow us to help him... He has quite the temper, something I'm sure came from his father." He sighed. "I just want you to feel safe here, is all." When Gaepora looked at him, his eyes were watering.

Zelda turned to Link when her father was done speaking, and her eyes were sad and uncertain. "Do you... want him to go?"

Now _that_ surprised the younger boy, and his eyes widened. They were... asking _him_? He tilted his head up to look at Zant. This was _his_ best friend's fate that they were discussing, and yet they were leaving the decision up to the boy who wasn't even adopted yet.

Did... DID he want Ghirahim to go..?

Sure, his life would be way easier, without having to hide or double check rooms before he entered, attempting to tip toe around the older boy constantly... but his comfort would come at the price of somebody else's homelessness, which weighed on his consciousness. Besides that, Link was sure that there had to be some other reason that Ghirahim didn't like it, and if he could just figure out what it was... then maybe he could make things right and have the older boy _tolerate_ him, at the very least.

He shook his head firmly at Zelda's question. No, he didn't want Ghirahim to go.

Gaepora nodded at Link's answer, and Zant and Zelda seemed to relax, the tension leaving their shoulders as Zant's hand squeezed the smaller boy gently. It had been his decision, but the two of them were determined to show him their appreciation by protecting him.

Link only realized that he had more of an audience than he thought when Gaepora's gaze slid to peer at the stairs. Almost as soon as Link gives the verdict, Ghirahim scurried back upstairs. The small boy tensed, hoping that maybe the tall boy would avoid him for awhile after this. It would be a nice thank you.

The rest of the day went by without incident or a sign of Ghirahim. The family had brunch, with Link happily seated squished right in between Zelda and Zant, and the small boy managed to eat enough to make his older foster sister happy. They talked, they laughed a little, and they tried to forget what had happened, despite the constant reminder on Link's face.

And then supper goes by, still without any sight of Ghirahim, and Link felt guilt beginning to knaw at him. He kept shooting a glance towards the stairs, watching and waiting, but there was absolutely no sign of the older boy.

...he wasn't eating, in addition to being beaten up..?

He stared down at his untouched plate. Ghirahim needed to eat so that his body had the strength to heal itself. He picked at the food with his fork, not feeling hungry at all as the guilt quickly filled his stomach and left no room for anything else. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he shot a look around the table.

...He didn't think that he was going to eat this... and Ghirahim _had_ to eat today...

Quietly he slid from his chair and took the plate of food in his hands, swallowing nervously as he turned and headed for the stairs. He felt Zant watching him, and had to ignore the urge to just return to the table and sit back down. He had to do the right thing... even if the other boy had a temper, his body needed the nutrients.

Link slowly climbed up the stairs and padded across the floor to Ghirahim's room, the plate tight in his nervous clutch. The door was shut, with an aggressive poster that warned him not to enter, and he tried not to think too hard about what he was doing. He hesitated and took a deep breath before doing the only thing that he could do. He knocked.

There were a few before he heard anything behind the door, but then it was pulled open just a touch.

Ghirahim stared out at him. Link stared back.

And then the door was slammed shut in the small boy's face. "Fuck off!"

He jumped back in surprise, almost dropping the place of food. With a frown, he took a step back towards the door, steeling himself. Ghirahim hadn't even given him the chance to hold up the food in offering, but this time, he would just have to thrust the plate towards him the moment the door was open. He knocked for the second time...

...But it didn't open. He heard shuffling, and pacing, but Ghirahim didn't open the door.

Link knocked again.

Still nothing. Ghirahim didn't say a word.

He knocked again. Link heard an irritated groan, but no shuffling of footsteps, and he frowned, dissatisfied. After waiting for a few more seconds, he knocked once more, and had to take a step back to avoid the door slamming into his face as Ghirahim swung it open.

"What the _hell_ do you want!? Any decent person with common sense would have gotten the fucking message by now, _you moron_! If you're seeking an apology _you're not getting one_!"

Link shrank a little from the harsh words being shot at him, and he almost tucked his tail between his legs and fled, but he forced himself to hold his ground. With a nervous gulp, he shook his head to indicate that he wasn't looking for an apology, despite how nice that would be, and held up the plate of food. He tried to keep his hands steady so that they weren't visibly shaking, but they still trembled.

He looked at Ghirahim, and then down at the food, pointedly.

Ghirahim's hair was messed up, his black eye swollen shut, and he was now wearing sweats. He looked pretty terrible, and kind of skinny, but he still eyed the food like Link was presenting him with pig shit. "Imbecile," he spat, and Link flinched, but it lacked its usual malice. "I'm not hungry. Get lost." The younger boy gave a disbelieving look. Ghirahim looked pretty fucking miserable to him: hungry, in pain and in emotional turmoil. So Link just shoved the plate insistently towards him again, giving him a harder look this time.

Ghirahim stared him down, almost trying to intimidate him to leave, but when he realized that Link was standing fast, he grew frustrated. "What is your _problem_ , boy? Have you no shame? I could easily overpower you, and yet you came alone. I can't tell if that's foolhardy courage or simple _stupidity_." Link had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at the other boy's stubbornness. This was so ridiculous, why couldn't he just accept the friggen food and then they could both go their separate ways and be done with this?

His gaze wandered to Ghirahim's wounds and he blinked, frowning. They must still be throbbing with hurt...

Giving the older boy a stern look, he set the plate of food on the floor between then and pushed it towards him, lifting up a finger in a very clear "wait one moment" message. His mind flashed to the first aid kit that Zelda had used to patch him up, and he turned and sprinted to his room. Pushing the door open, he triumphantly spotted the kit still here, and was kick to pick it up and hurry back to Ghirahim.

But when the older boy saw what was in hsi hands, his expression morphed into one of fury. " _No, no, no!_ I can deal with this pain in solitude! I don't need _you_ , your fool-hardy logic, your irrational trust or your ridiculous act! I will be _far_ happier when you are out of my life, and you cease trying to _indoctrinate_ me too!"

Before Link can reach the door, Ghirahim has slammed it shut again, It clinked against the plate on the floor, and Link is left standing outside, confused and fuming. Why can't the older boy just accept the stupid help and let himself feel better instead of insisting on being in a foul mood all of the time? Why does he lock himself away?

Link placed the first aid kit on the floor, moving the plate so that it sat on top of the box. Lifting both of his fists, he ignored his sense of reason and banged impatiently on the door, with more force than he's ever used before. It's all he can do to keep himself standing as the door slams open, screaming on the hinges, and Ghirahim slaps him in the face with the force of his entire body. He doesn't speak, it's cold and deliberate, and as soon as Link reels back, the door is shut again with a deafening bang.

Link blinks, tears pooling in his eyes, because god that stings. He can barely make out the bold letters on the poster.

Zant is soon behind him, pulling him close to his chest and shushing him. Link didn't even realize that he'd cried out, but sure enough, tears were streaming down his cheeks. He pressed that part of his face that was stinging against Zant, feeling incredibly stupid.

As if Ghirahim was going to accept help from Link. He wasn't even sure what he though would happen. Maybe Ghirahim would accept the food and start to maybe, I don't know, not hate Link as much?

Well that obviously didn't happen.

Fine. The older boy can sit in his room by himself without food or medication and feel sorry for himself. Link wasn't going to try and help him anymore. He resisted the urge to kick the older boy's door in frustration, instead turning away and pressing closer into Zant as he held back his tears.

The older boy guides him downstairs, trying to be gentle, and whispering to calm him.

"...He gets like this sometimes. He just wants to be alone. After he has a fight with his dad. He doesn't eat or sleep much... I'm sorry."

As soon as they got downstairs, Gaepora and Zant begin to stress over him, giving him more ice and TLC as he has to tell them again that he doesn't want them to kick Ghirahim out, though more grumpy this time.

When they go to bed for the night, Link is about to walk right past Ghirahim's door with his nose turned up, but he noticed something. The plate on top of the kit is now empty of food. He stared at it in disbelief. After all that trouble, the other boy just ended up eating the food anyway? Link tried to be angry about it, but he was just tired after the exhausting day, just sighing and turning towards his own room.

He paused before his hands could twist open the doorknob though. What he had given hadn't been a lot of food... Ghirahim would need more if he wanted to keep his strength up, and leaving the empty plate would probably attract bugs. Grumbling to himself, Link tiptoed back to the plate, warily keeping an eye on Ghirahim's door. He grabbed the dish and brought it downstairs, where he washed it in the sink. Fetching some crackers from the pantry and a bottle of gatorade, he brought them upstairs and left them in front of Ghirahim's door, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Satisfied, Link crept back to his own room, opened the door, and promptly let out a scream. Ghirahim... was sitting on his bed. Sitting on the edge of his bed, acting like he belonged there, legs crossed and smiling devilishly. On his bed were his books, his journal, some of his clothes.

 _Ghirahim was in his room, gleefully going through all of his shit._

Link felt panic enter his system and he wished with all of his might that he had the balls to just go in there and kick the shit out of the older man for invading his privacy and poising his safe spot like this. Instead, he shrank away, trembling like a leaf.

How dare Ghirahim do this! He can't just... waltz into Link's room and go through his stuff! The small boy spluttered silent words of protest, indignant and scared. He wanted Ghirahim out and he didn't know how to make him do that. This was LINK'S safe spot! LINKS room!

Nerves crept up his spine, and he stomped on the ground, trying not to cry, pointing at the hallway in a clear sign for Ghirahim to _get out_. It wasn't okay to him that somebody had entered his room without asking, and it made him feel sick that somebody had touched his journal and books.

Those were HIS, and his journal was something incredibly private. HIS room. HIS books. HIS journal. HIS privacy. And Ghirahim was just... single handedly ruining everything!

"Hm. I really thought that I'd find something even _remotely_ interesting in here. But I suppose you're just as _dull_ as I thought." Ghirahim cast aside his copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. "What use are words if you can't repeat them? What is the point of all these useless notes, if nobody will ever hear you read them? You can't even tell me to leave, though you're trembling with the need to do so... _nobody can hear you scream_."

Link clenched his fists and grinded his teeth together, holding back his tears of frustration and embarrassment. He stared at his copy of 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. His father had been a high school English teacher, and had loved to get him books like that. Link loved to read them. Who did Ghirahim think he was?!

He pointed more insistently at the hallway. _Get out get out get out get out get out get out get out._

Ghirahim just stared at him, smug. He was so far up on his high horse that he could probably touch the clouds.

"I'm going to make this as _frighteningly_ clear as possible, so that you can understand. I'm not leaving until I get what I _want_ out of you... As for what that may be, I haven't _decided_ yet. But, I'll ask you _this_ ," he tossed aside Macbeth and stood, approaching Link as would a predator stalking a gazelle. " _Why tell them to let me stay_? It seems largely _beneficial_ for the both of us... you get your _perfect_ family, and I get to _never_ see your fucking face again. _Do you pity me? Do you think that you're better than me? Do you rightfully admire me?_ " Ghirahim leaned forward, their faces mere inches apart. " _Boy, what are you?_ "

Link's trembling only grew worse, and he tried to shrink away from Ghirahim as the older bot got too close to him. His face had gone pale, his throat closing off with panic as he tried to control his steadily increasing breathing. Ghirahim wouldn't try anything again, not so soon. Not while he was still on thin ice.

He closed his eyes and leaned away, throwing his hands out to push at Ghirahim desperately. The other boy was too close and Link couldn't breath, he needed space. He felt Ghirahim's chest under his fingers, and as soon as it left with his push, it came back, and he was pressing closer.

He felt Ghirahim's chest under his fingers, and as soon as it left with his push, it came back, and he was pressing closer. Without a word, Ghirahim grabbed Link's sore jaw, squeezing and prying it open with his fingers like you would a cat or dog. Link had to fight his instincts in order to open his eyes, as they filled with tears. Ghirahim just stared at his mouth.

"You have a tongue, an adam's apple, a windpipe and vocal chords," he hissed. " _So why can't you speak to me_?!" When Ghirahim let go, Link's jaw snapped shut, and the older boy stepped away. He tried to ignore the residual feeling of cotton and warmth under his hands as he stumbled backwards and gave Ghirahim a look that was similar to that of a wounded animal in the hands of a hunter.

His arms wrapped around himself and he tried to figure out what to do. Should he stay here and wait for Ghirahim to leave, or should he turn and leave and just wait it out downstairs?

As soon as he realized that his tears were about to spill over, though, Link wasn't about to risk the chance to let Ghirahim see him crying. He spun around and bolted down the stairs, deciding to stay and sleep on the couch for the night. He wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully in his own room tonight, anyway, thanks to Ghirahim invading it.

He feels wetness on his cheeks and he wiped it away angrily.

Why couldn't he defend himself?

...Why couldn't Ghirahim just leave him alone...?


	4. Blackbird

Link had just settled himself on the couch, his face buried in his knees as he cried, when he heard feet padding downstairs. He wiped his face with his sleeves, feeling so fucking tired but not wanting Ghirahim to see him crying like a baby because of him. When a tired and worried Zelda appeared in the living room and not an enraged Ghirahim itching to beat him up again, Link relaxed. She rubbed her eyes when she spotted him, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. She obviously hadn't been expecting to find the small boy curled up on the couch.

"...Sleepyhead? Are you okay?"

Link took in her tired form and felt a wave of guilt. The whole family had been incredibly kind and considerate to him, but he knew that it had to be wearing down on them by now. He hated to be a burden, and he was sure that they had to be disappointed the he hadn't made as much progress as he knew that had hoped for. So he gave her a nod to say that he was fine, and then quickly looked away.

"Are you sure?" She mumbled, in between two yawns. "It's late..." she made her way over to the couch, soft voiced and softer faced. "I know you can't tell me what's wrong, but I can try and guess. Did Ghirahim do something to hurt you again?"

She plopped herself down next to him. If she saw his tears, she didn't comment on them, just reached for his hand in silent comfort. Link hesitated to answer. It seemed like everything that he did just gave everyone more reasons to worry about him, and he didn't want to create more trouble. He shook his head no, picking at the sleeves of his sweater, but Zelda wasn't buying it. She started to pout. "...Did he intimidate you?" When he didn't react, she just squeezed his hand tighter and sighed softly.

They could see the night sky through the living room bay window, and the soft darkness encased the room, lit only by the speckle of stars that brushed the night. All was quiet.

"You know, you can tell me anything. I'm sorry that so much has been going on between you and him. I just... really want you to stay!" She admitted, playing with his fingers. "I always wanted a little brother..." A giggle interrupted her words. "Or... I was fine with a sister too, but you work as both, cuz I can still braid your hair for you!" That coaxed a blush from Link, and a burst of quiet giggles fell past his lips, the sound just a soft squeak. He wished that he could tell her that he thought she was a swell sister and that he'd always wanted siblings. "I'm sorry I'm being such a dork," she laughed, tucking some hair behind her ear. "I just... I don't like seeing family fight, and I really love you. I want to see you two happy and getting along, even though I know it's going to take time." She looked down at his hand, letting her thumb rub soothing circles on his palm. "Um... I used to do some pretty bad stuff to myself... dad was never home, and Zant wasn't here yet, so I was lonely a lot of the time..."

Link held her hand tightly, feeling a stir of pity rise within him. He knew very well what it felt like to be lonely, and it wasn't a good feeling at all. It led to bad thoughts and feelings.

Zelda chewed on her words before she finally decided to continue speaking. "...I didn't eat. Ever. And I still have trouble... tasting and looking at food and not wanting to throw up. I used to, um... braid my hair before it all started, but eventually it started falling out." Sadness filled Link's chest and he shuffled closer to her, offering her what support he could. He couldn't have imagined or guessed that Zelda, who was happy and upbeat and always ready to help him, had felt so low in her life.

"When dad finally came home, and figured it out, I weighed sixty-three pounds... I was almost dead of malnutrition. But it was so... hard to even understand why it was wrong. It happened so slowly, by the time it got to that point, every step had seemed rational... I was so obsessed with counting calories and being smaller than a size zero. But it all had just seemed... normal."

Tears pricked the corner of Link's eyes, and he laid himself down with his head in Zelda's lap to hide them. Zelda meant so much to him, and it hurt him to hear of her pain like this. He didn't want any suffering to land on her shoulders because she didn't deserve that. She was a sweet, good person. Her hands went to his hair and she slowly began to braid it. Link noticed with slight relief that the action seemed to soothe her a little bit.

"...It took a long time for dad to trust me again. Every time he left home, he kept calling and asking me if I was okay, if I had eaten today, if I wanted him to bring back anything specific for supper. He was... so mad at himself for not seeing the signs. That's why he took on a different job, closer to home, so that he could _be_ there... it took a really long time for me to recover. I still haven't fully recovered... it's hard not to eat an apple and think about the acid on my teeth. Or look at an almond in the can, and see seven calories." Link swallowed hard, touched that she trusted him enough to tell him this, but hating that it happened to her.

It's silent for a little while, Zelda's hand just running through his hair. "I just... i just know that dad is thinking about this when he looks at you," she finally says, and Link gasped. "He sees Ghirahim teasing and hurting you, and pictures you as I was then; about to collapse and unable to defend myself from my own brain. But he also sees Ghirahim... a poor, abused boy that's lashing out because he's hurting..."

Link mulled over her words. He knew that he wanted to make Gaepora proud someday, that he wanted to get better. He wanted to... make peace with Ghirahim somehow. He wanted to be able to talk again and tell this family how grateful he was and how much they meant to him.

"And... with Zant, I've never seen him enjoy physical touch as he does with you. He's usually like a cactus; he doesn't even let dad pat him on the back... He's said it's because when people didn't understand him, they tried restraining him." Link gave her a confused look, trying to figure out how to ask his question without using his voice, but it seemed like she was able to pick up on it pretty quickly. "Oh, he has autism. You didn't know?" Link shook his head, surprised. He hadn't known, no... alarm went through him as he thought about it. He hoped that he hadn't been making Zant uncomfortable by clinging on to him! He had thought that it was okay! Was the older boy just not asking him to stop because he didn't want to hurt Link's feelings? The last thing that Link wanted was to make Zant uncomfortable or unhappy with him...

Zelda chuckled. "Don't worry, Zant always says something if it crosses the line. He hasn't said anything to stop you from cuddling up to him, right?" Link gave him some consideration, flicking through his memories for some time before finally shaking his head. "Then he likes it! Maybe it's just different with you; you do give off the sweet and gently vibe!"

Link blushed, but was relieved to know that he wasn't being a nuisance to the older boy. A smile pulled his lips upwards, and he turned his face into Zelda's lap to hide it. He felt... happy here. He wanted to stay, was overjoyed that they wanted to adopt him... they had done so much for him already, and they made him happy again. Just like his parents had.

Zelda braided his hair for a while, her fingers doing and undoing intricate fishtails until Link's eyelids felt heavy. He stirred at the sound of her giggle. "Did you want to go up to bed?"

Immediately, Link stiffened, his mind remembering what he was doing down here in the first place. Ghirahim had been in his room. Without permission. He might still be there. Zelda tilted her head towards him, until something seemed to click. "Did Ghirahim go in your room?"

Not wanting to create a fuss after everything else that had happened today, Link quickly shook his head in denial and looked away from the older girl. She narrowed her eyes at him before sighing dramatically. "Oh, well... I guess I'll just have to send you up to your room, then! Since nothing is the matter! And Ghirahim is _nowhere_ near your room!"

 _Oh shit._

Link's eyes widened in panic and he immediately clutched at her nightgown desperately, his eyes pleading with her to not make him go up there. He shook his head again, harder this time, and Zelda sighed, laughing softly. "Come on," she pressed gently. "I'll go with you, to see if he's still there. If he is, I'll make him go, or you can sleep in mine or Zant's room!" Link looked incredibly unconvinced, but he didn't want to argue in case Zelda left him alone. He took her hand tightly in his and let her guide him upstairs, towards his room, where the door was left slightly open.

Zelda peeked in, curious, but when her eyes widened she opened the door fully and stepped inside. More hesitant, but figuring that Ghirahim wasn't in there because Zelda hadn't said anything, Link looked in, and gasped. His room was... clean. Ghirahim was gone, but his stuff was put away, his bed was made, and his floor was swept. The only change was his journal, which lay open on the bed. Link's nervous eyes immediately locked on the book, alarmed. Had Ghirahim gone through it? Why would it be open? He crept forward and carefully picked the object up. As he inspected the page that it was open to, he recognized writing, though it wasn't his own. It was elegant cursive, fancy but still legible. It looked practiced.

The writing barely covered three lines, but Link still feels the weight of the words written down.

 _I asked you, boy, why with a tongue, an Adam's apple, a windpipe and vocal chords, you could not speak to me._

 _Whether you know it or not, you gave me an answer._

 _PS: Your room was absolutely filthy, so I cleaned it. You're welcome._

 _-Ghirahim_

...What did Ghirahim mean? Link hadn't given him any sort of answer. Had he gone through his journal to find what he wanted to know? The thought of that made Link feel sick with unease, and he hugged the book to his chest, pushing back his worries. Zelda tilted her head at him as she waited, chewing on her words before she finally spoke up. "...Is that private?" Link hesitated before carefully nodding, and she gave him a slight, sad smile. "He wrote in it, didn't he... do you think you'll be okay here for the night?"

Link stayed silent for a little while, staring at her and then at the journal. You would have to inspect the other pages, to tell if he'd read anything... did he feel safe enough alone? Right now, Link wanted to cry as he thought about Ghirahim knowing his most private thoughts, and he didn't want to be alone. In the end, he shook his head and shuffled closer to Zelda, feeling sick.

The other girl nodded in understand. "Come on, then! We'll go to my room, so we don't have to wake Zant."

They made their way over there, and Zelda gave him an old, baggy shirt to sleep in, which Link gratefully put on. He spent the night tucked in Zelda's bed with her, and thankfully, it was a dreamless sleep.

He was awoken at 10am by Zelda, who was already showered and dressed. Groggy, he forced himself up and plodded downstairs while the older girl stayed in the upstairs bathroom and dried her hair. His journal was clutched tightly in his hands, and when he stumbled into the kitchen, his grip went deadly. His eyes met Ghirahim's, his feet frozen in spot.

The smaller boy went pale and began to back away, not wanting to deal with this right now, not wanting to know how much the older boy had read. He just... couldn't. But Ghirahim's gaze went down to the journal in Link's arms, scoffing. "I didn't read it, you _buffoon_." Link paused in his escape, struggling to figure out if the other boy was lying or not. "I saw that it was nothing but useless, emotional dribble. And _regardless_ , one day you'll tell me those things yourself... whether you wish to or not." Again, his tone wasn't quite as malicious as Link had been expecting. He looked tired; his black eye still looked awful, but his other eye had a sweeping of exhausted purple. He had showered and changed, and instead of cereal, he was eating scrambled eggs and toast.

It smelled... delicious. And Link could tell that there was still more in the pan. The scent of it had his stomach growling loudly, and it made the small boy jump. It had been awhile since any food had made him feel this hungry. He must have made a lot of progress here, which gave him a warm, pleased feeling. He stared at the extra food longingly.

"...You can have it," Ghirahim rasped. "Gaepora left for work early, leaving me to cook something. Quite _irresponsible._ "

He gave the older boy a wary look. There had to be some sort of catch, right? He wouldn't just give Link the food. But Ghirahim just stared him down, looking bored, his eyebrow arched. Link let his gaze slip back towards the food. He supposed that he could take some, but... he still wasn't comfortable with eating around other people. He timidly crept over and grabbed a plate, taking a small amount of the food for himself before turning and scampering out of the kitchen and into the living room.

He set down on the couch and took a tentative bite, hearing Ghirahim chuckle from the kitchen. The food was as tasty as it smelled, flavorful and still warm, but that _laughter_...

"How _rude_. Weren't you taught that you should look at someone when they're speaking to you? If you insist on tucking tail and running away, the very _least_ you can do is listen." Link swallowed his mouthful with difficulty, deciding that his stomach could wait to eat until he was alone. Quietly, he set the tempting plate down onto the coffee table and pulled his legs up against his chest, the journal lodged protectively against his stomach.

"I take it that you didn't _understand_ the note I left for you? Hm. I suppose that's to be _expected_." Link frowned, and almost instinctively opened his journal to the page Ghirahim had written on. "Why, what you told me was simple. _Laughably_ so! You even repeated yourself mere _seconds_ ago," Ghirahim tittered, and Link grew more tense. "You _fled_ boy. With tears in your eyes! Your message was _clear_ ," he stated. Link heard the chair scrape the floor as he stood and made his way over to the living room.

Ghirahim turned the corner and Link whirled to look at him, cautious. " _You're afraid of me_."

Link flinched, immediately looking down at his hands. He thumbed the pages of his journal, just for something to do. His cheeks burned and he wanted to deny what Ghirahim was saying, but it was true, and the older boy had caught his tears. Frustration gripped him harder than ever before as his throat closed up, and he scooted to the other end of the couch, as far away from the doorway and Ghirahim as he could get.

Almost directly out of spite, Ghirahim sauntered over to the couch, plopping himself down on the cushion right next to Link and watching him squirm with a smug smile. "Now, let me make one thing understood," he deadpanned, all ounce of emotion gone. "I don't like you. I have never, and _will_ never like you. But," he practically purred, "If it will _eventually_ earn your trust, and make you speak, I will gladly be as _sweet_ as cherry pie to you. And, quite frankly, if I'm forced to go back to my father's house, my limp corpse floating down the river will have your name written _all over it_."

Link paled, his back pressed hard against the arm of the couch, ignoring how much it hurt in favour of getting even a little more distance between the two of them. His eyes hardened and he glared down at his hands. He didn't want Ghirahim's fake kindness. He wanted the older boy to leave him alone, because Link was not going to give him what he wanted. Many other people had tried to get him to talk, and he hadn't then, so he sure as hell wasn't going to do it now. Not to Ghirahim, not to anybody. The older boy wasn't going to force him to do anything. Link shook his head with a huff.

Ghirahim merely chuckled, and to Link's surprise seemed to take his opinion into account. "Fine," he said, getting up and setting down a glass of orange juice that he'd been concealing behind his back. He strolled over to the stairs with a practiced ease, not flinching from any one of his wounds, as he went upstairs, wearing a smirk. "Enjoy your meal~"

Link stared after him with suspicion. That had ended way too easily...

As silence fell over the living room, his hunger awoke again, and the small boy's gaze slid down to the plate of barely touched food, now accompanied by a glass of orange juice. He had to admit that the food was really good, and he really did love orange juice...

But Ghirahim had made everything.

Stubbornly, Link held back another moment, checking the stairs to make sure that Ghirahim wasn't hiding there and waiting for him to move. But the coast was completely clear, and Link hesitantly reached out to pull the plate onto his lap.

One bite led to another, and soon the plate was empty, practically licked clean. His stomach still growled, and he eyed the glass of juice longingly. Well... he already ate the food... so it wouldn't really do any harm..

Link took the glass with two hands and gulped it down, eyes widening as the taste fell over him. This... tasted better than most of the processed stuff, and it made him pause for a second, wiping his mouth. Was this... freshly squeezed? Curious, Link got up off the couch to peak into the kitchen, and sure enough, Ghirahim had brought out the juicer and made it himself. There was still half a pitcher left.. and the pan still held another portion of eggs and toast that called his name... Throwing another glance over his shoulder to make sure that Ghirahim couldn't see him, Link gave in to his stomach and scooped up the rest of the eggs and toast, and spreading strawberry jam on the bread. Shoving food in his mouth, he glared at the pitcher of juice. Damnit, that was some goddamned good juice and he was going to have another glass.

He was light on his feet when he pranced over to the kitchen table and began to scarf down the food in peace, though he told himself that Ghirahim couldn't buy his love with food. He couldn't.

When he heard rhythmic feet coming down the stairs, Link froze with half a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth, but as soon as he saw Zant, clothes still ruffled from sleep, rubbing his eyes, come into the kitchen, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Good morning," Zant rasped with sleepy morning voice, going to grab a box of cereal. Link nodded in greeting at him, quickly swallowing his mouthful and wiping his mouth and washing it down with his glass of orange juice. As Zant sat down, Link pushed back his chair and brought his dirty dishes over to set in the sink, shooting glances towards the older boy. Zelda had said that if he was making Zant uncomfortable, he would say something. Still...

Link bounced back over and hesitantly pushed his chair against Zant's, climbing onto it and relaxing against the tall boy as he watched his face. He didn't seem uncomfortable... Link grinned. Zant didn't say anything, merely continuing to eat his cereal as his younger brother practically laid down on top of him. Link's eyes flickered down to the cereal and then back up at Zant, pouting as he began to feel guilty. He had ate all of the eggs and toast without saving some for the other household members... Chewing on his lip, Link's gaze slid over to the pitcher of juice. There was enough in there for at least one more glass. Brightening up, the small boy slid off of his chair and grabbed the pitcher, marching back over to Zant and proudly placing it in front of him.

Zant blinked, staring at the jug for a few moments before looking over at the pan on the stove. "Oh. Ghirahim cooked." Then, he looked Link, trying to read his expectant expression. "...I don't eat eggs. At least not scrambled. They have a weird texture... it's the same with orange juice. The pulp gives me trouble." When Link seemed visibly relieved yet saddened, Zant turned his attention back to the pan. "Ghirahim knows that..."

To Link's surprise, Zant got up and walked over to the stove, opening the oven. Sitting on a plate, warming for a while, was a small stack of blueberry pancakes. Zant giggled, and Link couldn't help but smile and relax against his chair.

So Ghirahim cooked sometimes.. and was clearly talented, judging by the taste of that breakfast. He watched Zant settle back down and begin to eat the pancakes with a dab of syrup, his cereal forgotten and smiling so sweetly that it was infectious. Between bites, he watched Link's expression, and talked.

"Ghirahim cooks when dad's at work. I'm nervous with an oven. Zelda is bad at it... and doesn't like the smell. Dad is okay. We still order way too much takeout. But Ghirahim likes it... He's had to care for himself. His dad doesn't do anything besides mix drinks." Link nods, resting his head on Zant's shoulder and closing his eyes while he listened. His stomach was happily full, he was warm, and there was this weird truce thing between him and Ghirahim.

The older boy thought that he could get Link to talk with acts of kindness and food, but Link knew better than that. Ghirahim can waste as much of his time as he wants, Link wasn't going to stop him. In fact, he was going to keep his mouth shut and take advantage of it, and Ghirahim could tire himself out on his own.

The small boy grinned. This was going to be... interesting.


	5. Little Pistol

As soon as Zant did the dishes, Link wandered back into the living room, settling himself onto the couch while the older boy climbed the stairs to his own room. Having nothing to do, the blond stretched out over the plush surface and flipped open his journal to a fresh page, marking the date and beginning a fresh entry, writing about Zelda, Zant, Gaepora... and, admittedly, Ghirahim.

That was where he was when footsteps sounded on the stairs, and he jerked his head up to watch Ghirahim appear, give a smirk, and head into the kitchen. Link did not relax, instead he waited and counted the minutes as they went by. Within the hour, the most divine smell that his nose had ever been blessed with drifted into the living room from the kitchen, and Ghirahim cheerfully announced that lunch was ready. Zelda practically flew downstairs, her feet barely touching the wooden planks, and disappeared into the kitchen, her face lit with excitement. Zant soon followed, though he was less rushed, and he waited at the entrance to the kitchen for Link. The boy let out a sigh and got to his feet, shuffling over to his foster brother and following him as they fetched food.

It turned out that Ghirahim had made a four cheese macaroni; cheddar, mozzarella, Parmesan, and a touch of Velveeta. Link sat next to Zant at the table as they ate.

 _It was absolutely orgasmic, and Link hated every bite of it._

As the kitchen cleared out, Link brought his dish to the sink, where Ghirahim was washing them, and the older boy's chuck had him bristling. He deliberately let the plate slip out of his hand and splash into the water, spraying soap on to Ghirahim's shirt. Without another glance, he marched back into the living room and settled himself back on the couch.

What was going through his head? Did Ghirahim think that he could make Link talk by giving him food? It wouldn't work. He huffed and openex his journal to where he left off, the entry abruptly cut off by Ghirahim's appearance. His pen hovered over the unfinished sentence, but he couldn't bring himself to focus enough to continue writing.

How far would Ghirahim go with his fake kindness? How long would he keep trying before he inevitably gave up? Link frowned, the questions running laps in his mind, not noticing as the time flew by.

The door opened around 6:00 pm, and Gaepora walked in with a Sobey's pre-cooked chicken in his hands. Zelda had joined him downstairs, and she groaned when she noticed the food, but ultimately didn't say anything. Link didn't make a noise, but felt his own wave of disappointment, as the pre-cooked chicken meant that Ghirahim wouldn't be making supper. He tried to tell himself that he really didn't care, but it was impossible. A secret collective groan is shared between Zelda, Link and Zant when Ghirahim settles in for the night.

The next day, after Link started to feel comfortable enough to sleep in his own room with the door locked, Link wakes up to the sound of a plate clinking against his door. Confused and slightly suspicious, he gets up and inches the door open slightly, to be greeted by one of the most amazing smells that's ever entered his nostrils.

There, waiting for him on the floor, was a nutella, strawberry, and banana crepe dusted with icing sugar. His mouth waters at the sight alone. Hepeered out into the hallway, trying to grab a glimpse of Ghirahim, but the other boy was nowhere in sight. Still, Link knew that it had to be him.

Not one to waste such a delicious looking meal, Link picked it up and brought it back into his room, taking a bite and letting out a sigh of pleasure. How long was Ghirahim going to act as his personal cook? Had he been serious when he claimed that he was going to get Link to talk? How did he feel about this?

After ten minutes, an empty plate was put back into the hallway.

For the rest of the week, Link tests Ghirahim to the limit: turning to give him a pointed look when Gaepora asks him to do a chore, bringing dirty plates and laundry to him to clean, getting him to hold a stack of books or a heavy object so that Link can rearrange his room.. but despite everything that he tries, he can't get Ghirahim to break his ridiculous nice act. It was beginning to drain on Link and wear him down when, thankfully, Gaepora had a Friday off and suggested that they have a day out.

Zant declined the offer, saying that he needed some space for awhile to recharge. Link understood: for a few days, the older boy had gently nudged his physical affection advances away, explaining that he was feeling drained and needed to breath. Link had smiled and given him a thumbs up, making sure to listen to him and give him the needed space. Ghirahim had also rejected, claiming that he didn't have the patience or interest to be stuck with the three of them for the entire day. Unfazed, Zelda, Link and Gaepora headed off, with Link relieved to have some respite away from Ghirahim's falsities and a chance to get some air and leave the house.

On the way to the mall, Zelda chattered to her father in the front seat about school, who nodded along and spoke up when appropriate, a soft smile on his face. Link lounged in the backseat, happily listening to the radio that was a quiet background track to Zelda's voice and watching the scenery flash by.

The entire day turned out to be exactly what Link needed to get rid of the restless feeling that had rooted itself inside, refilling his own energy tank. Zelda definitely enjoyed herself, quickly filling a shopping cart with as much clothing that was allowed, while Link managed to find another large, warm sweater that he loved. As they went from shop to shop, Link's single bag clutched in his hand, as well as some of his foster sisters bags, Gaepora suggested that Link get a new journal to replace his current one, which was beginning to fall apart, but he had been quick to disagree. His father had given him the journal the Christmas before he passed, and it was something that Link held dear to his heart. The large man hadn't insisted, even though he couldn't possibly understand why Link would cling to the ratty old leather notebook, but had nudged him towards the writing utensils and firmly encouraged him to get a new fountain pen instead. Link had agreed, pouring over different colors and styles while Zelda took her sweet time in the clothing isle.

Eventually, he settled on a simple, elegant black fountain pen that was meant to have a weight and run smoothly. Zelda made some final decisions, Gaepora paid for everything, and then they headed for Dairy Queen to have some lunch and ice cream. As Link nibbled on his chicken snack wrap, smiling, he reflected that he hadn't felt so relaxed and at peace with the world in awhile. and his heart thumped happily as his eyes flickered over the two family members seated across from him.

When evening began to throw a dark shade over the sky, the trio finally headed home. Link was barely awake when they arrived, almost falling up the stairs as he made his way to his room. Small hands pushed the door open, and he placed his two bags down onto his desk, hearing Gaepora and Zelda still shuffling around downstairs. He had no idea how the older girl could still have so much energy after practically running around all day. He felt like he could sleep for a week! Intending to do exactly that, he turned towards his bed, only to pause in confusion.

Sitting proudly on his pillow, tied with a bright red ribbon, was a thin little book begging for his attention.

Link wandered closer and reached out, gently plucking the intended gift into his eager hands and untying the ribbons so that he could get a better look at the title. The lettering jutted out slightly, and Link fingered it with light touches.

 _The Perks of Being a Wallflower._

Everything clicked, and Link realized that there was only one person who could have gotten this book for him. A scowl grew on his face as Ghirahim's stupid smirk flashed in his mind, but he hugged the book to his chest nonetheless, unable to deny how pleased he was that Ghirahim had gotten him this. He was fuming as he flipped through it and grudgingly placed the generous gift onto his nightstand, telling himself that he probably wouldn't even like the novel anyway.

He climbed into bed and laid down, staring at his nightstand with eyes that wouldn't fall shut, despite how tired he had felt just ten minutes ago. Sleep evaded him while he struggled to ignore the conflicting feelings that battled in circles around his heart.

Within two days, Link had finished reading, and re-reading, his new book three times, and was entirely dismayed to find that it might just be his new favorite. When Ghirahim caught him, sprawled out on the couch, reading his favorite part for the seventh time, he had to stifle his snickering, and Link had fumbled to hide it from view, his face red and his mind full with a million denials.

On Tuesday, after Gaepora had to work for the rest of the long weekend, Zelda surprised Link with a hug in the afternoon when she got back from school. She dissolved into giggles when her interlocked hands pushed gently against his stomach. "Wow Link! I can barely feel your ribs now: you must have gained some weight from all of Ghirahim's cooking! I'm so proud of you!"

Fate must have had a thing for torturing Link, because it was as Zelda was talking that the bathroom door opened, and all Link could do was press a hand over Zelda's laughing face in an attempt to muffle and shush her while Ghirahim walked past them, that stupid smirk in place. It was useless, because the older boy had clearly heard her comment, and loud snickering sounded from the stairs as he disappeared into his own room. Link wanted to run after him and yell that just because he ate the food that was put in front of him didn't mean that he actually liked it or enjoyed it at all or that the offerings were even welcome, but he was so embarrassed and frustrated with himself that he could only stand there and gently shove Zelda as his face slowly began to cool down.

He told himself that he was just playing along with Ghirahim's stupid little game, that he didn't _actually_ enjoy one second of Ghirahim's attention.

Later that night, Link found himself nervously clutching his copy of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ in his hands as he crept down the stairs and peered into the living room. His eyes brightened when he noticed Zant sitting on the couch, staring out the window and listening to the rain pounding gently against the glass. Brushing his hair out of his face, he quietly walked up to the relaxed boy, chewing on his lip and gathering his courage with each patter of his socked feet on the wooden floors. When he's standing in front of him, Link climbed onto the couch and tapped softly on Zant's leg to garner his attention. Curious brown eyes rested on him, and Link gave a small smile, placing the book onto his lap and patting it with a hopeful look.

Zant blinked as he processed the request before he smiled softly and picked up the book, flipping it open and beginning to read to him. He goes slow, but the knows how to pronounce all of the words, and Link felt great at hearing it aloud against the wind and rain. No resistance meets his head as he lays it down in Zant's lap, and his face is filled with content as his eyes slide shut against the warmth around him, allowing the words to come to life and dance around his head. Papa used to read to him like this and it still managed to effectively soothe Link and strike a happy chord inside of his heart.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs causes Link to twitch, but he doesn't move or even open his eyes to look up, too relaxed to even bother.

Which means that he doesn't see how Ghirahim freeze at the bottom of the stairs, or how he grits his teeth in annoyance at the sight of Link draped across Zant's lap, or the way that his expression slowly shifts as he smugly began to recognize what exactly was being read. And when Zant gets to a part that's well known, Link suddenly hears two voices reading to him instead of one, and it shocks him enough for his eyes to fly open.

When he catches sight of Ghirahim, his face too close as he lounges over the top of the couch while he reads over Zant's shoulder, Link's face explodes into a million shades of red. He stares up at the other man, embarrassed and fuming to have been caught so obviously enjoying the book that was a gift by his hands. In retaliation, Link nestles further into Zant's lap with a challenging look shot in Ghirahim's direction, trying to communicate to the boy to bug off and leave him alone. He _knows for a fact_ that Ghirahim absolutely can't stand seeing Link hanging out with Zant, and that it grates on his nerves, so he tries to use that to his advantage to coax him into breaking his nice act.

Ghirahim shoots him a look, but his voice doesn't falter as he continues to read.

Eventually, Zant's voice gets tired, and he wordlessly hands the book to Ghirahim, who grows ridiculously more smug with just that one action. Zant stays in his spot for Link's sake, comfortable and listening as well, but by the time that Ghirahim is done, having read the whole book and wrecked his voice, Zant is snoring softly. Link is still making direct, unwavering eye contact as Ghirahim shuts the book, rests it on the small boy's chest, and bids him good night with the most twisted (yet rasoy) laughter that Link has ever heard. Link stares after him, quietly continuing to fume and ignoring that little part of his brain that was trying to comment on how nice Ghirahim's reading voice was and that it would be nice to have him do this again.

No. Absolutely not. Link had completely hated that Ghirahim had stepped in and taken over, and he definitely did not enjoy a single second of that. He hugs the book, hating Ghirahim and his stupid voice and stupid everything.

The next day, after he comes in from taking out the garbage, Link finds another book laying on his bed, a big red bow planted cheerfully on top. Link rolled his eyes and snatched it up. Shakespeares _Hamlet_...

That motherfucker knew.

When Zelda's birthday comes, Link is sick out of his mind and he feels absolutely terrible about it while he watches his family getting ready to go out and celebrate it. Gaepora is quick to reassure him, however, saying that "Ghirahim has already given Zelda his gift as well, so he'll be staying behind with you. I'll just say, I'm so happy tha tyou've been getting along so well. You've made this old man very proud."

Whenever Link gets sick, his emotions become a pitiful mess, and this time is no different. He feels a wave of conflicting feelings crash into him all at once. Most prominent is the guilt for missing Zelda's birthday, immediately followed by dismay at the implication that him and Ghirahim were willingly getting along. Gaepora wasn't aware of their little conflict, however, and Link wasn't about to tell him and change that fact. Everything battles, however, with the long-forgotten warmth that accompanied the pride of a parent bestowed onto a child, and for that, he simply smiles and nods, accepting the little comfort that the older man was trying to give him.

He's still completely devastated when he sees them off, though, feeling like death and throbbing with a painful disappointment as he trudged back upstairs to his room. He dragged his tired body to his bed, where he collapsed with a very loud, very tortured groan. On his nightstand, the two books that Ghirahim had given him sat, and and he stared at them dejectedly. At least he would have something to read while he laid there like a useless lump and missed his sister's birthday.

Link doesn't get more than a second of peace before there's a goddamn knock on the door and Ghirahim just waltzes right in.

 _The audacity._

But rather than gloating, as Link assumed that he would, he's holding a tray of hot, homemade soup, and suddenly it doesn't matter whether Ghirahim is friend or foe. Link is fighting against tears, overwhelmed by the feelings that were beginning to consume him, and while he doesn't want Ghirahim to see him crying, he can't exactly tell him to get out... he needs that soup.

" _Seems like quite a cold, hm? Don't worry, I'm sure Zelda will have many more birthdays to share with you._ "

His voice was doing that weird sing-song he gives off when he's not saying all that he wants to, for fear of breaking his kindness pact. Link has heard it enough now to recognize it. The look that he gives Ghirahim is nether a glare of hatred nor a wide-eyed glance of fear. It's just sick, tired, and full of longing.

Ghirahim sets the tray down in front of him, and Link can only notice the little things, like how he even thought to bring napkins and an extra spoon in case he drops his... and Link is struck with the crushing realization that he's never been pampered like this before. Hell, it's gotten to the point where Ghirahim has taken on most, if not all, of Link's chores without being asked. Before he can stop himself, he feels a tear roll down his face. Ghirahim was turning to leave, but there was a lump in Link's chest that was begging him not to go.

...and that terrified him, because this wasn't even real. Ghirahim was playing nice to get what he wanted, after making it perfectly clear that he was never going to like him. It was all fake, but the twisting in his stomach was real, and it fluttered with panic hard enough to hurt. Another tear skidded down his face, and suddenly Link's hand flashed out and grabbed Ghrahim's arm to prevent him from leaving. As Ghirahim turned towards him and began to stare him down, he froze. His eyes, a deep chocolate, were filled with a vast array of feelings in response to what he was seeing. Confusion. Frustration. Disgust. Then the veil of niceties fell over it all, and Ghirahim came back with an open expression but a mouth full of lies.

...It hurt. It made Link feel sick to his stomach in a way that was completely unrelated to his ailment, and he turned away, shatter the eye contact as he moved to carefully push the tray away from himself and onto the floor. The soup wasn't nearly as enticing anymore.

Maybe he had wanted to believe that Ghirahim had began to like him as well, but that foolish thought had been immediately slaughtered during the second-long crack in his expression. Link felt absolutely humiliated and utterly stupid for letting himself get so emotionally convinced of this ploy. Was it because he was sick that he let his defenses fall? Did it even matter, if he could't manage to throw them up again? Ghirahim was probably going to have a good old laugh over all of this tonight.

Ghirahim... Link hates that he had fell into his stupid game when he knew perfectly well what the other boy was trying to do. He hadn't expected his heart to turn on him, however.. yet he coulnd't even _explain_ it properly. Ghirahim stirred up feelings inside of him that he'd rather not exist: he seemed to read the smaller boy like it wasn't even a challenge, planting a type of happiness that was only compared to how his parents had made him feel, and yet... it was different, and that was the worst part of all of this. Link didn't understand how or why Ghirahim had managed to get through years and years of brick walls and into the core of his soul in such a short span of time, and just trying to figure it out left Link drained. He was embarrassed, he was defeated, and he was sick and tired of being Ghirahim's toy. He wanted the other boy to leave him alone, to stop watching him, to not witness his defenses cracking and falling to pieces in plain sight, how he trembled against them and his emotions threatened to break into a hurricane.

But Ghirahim didn't leave, despite the thick tension in the air demanding otherwise. He seemed to consider him for a moment before sitting down at the edge of the bed, exactly where he sat when he'd gone through Link's room. Link shifts, but Ghirahim doesn't move. He just sits there, as Link bursts into tears, and waits, watching.

The tears quickly grew into sobs, and Link turned away so that he could muffle them into his pillow, where he didn't have to see Ghirahim, where he could pretend that the other boy wasn't even there. His body heaved with the pain that throbbed inside of him, and he felt frustration bubble up. This was just another thing for the boy to gloat about. _Why_ was his cooking just as good as mama's? _Why_ did his voice, reading words off of a paper, instill the same calming air as his papa's had? _Why did he make him feel loved while hating his guts?_

In moments like these, it didn't matter how nice his current family was. How kind Zelda was to him, how comforting Gaepora was as a father figure, how happy he was with Zant as a brother. It didn't matter because no matter how hard he tried, he always came back to his own parents, and the hopeless feeling that nobody could ever even begin to replace them.

Link felt Ghirahim's hand settle on his back, and he was very conflicted. On the one hand, this wasn't real. This wasn't real and Ghirahim didn't actually like him, just like many people who just acted like they liked him. On the other hand, he was so warm... his touch so gentle. His fingers traced Link's spine, and he forgot how to breathe. He was almost willing to forget his inner turmoil in favour of letting him do this... it felt so soothing. His mind went back and forth between pressing closer or shying away. In the end, the boy ended up doing neither, instead opting to crying his soul out into his pillow and not moving even a little bit. Yes it felt nice, but it wasn't real. He couldn't pretend that this wasn't all just some giant self-indulging ploy to from Ghirahim to get him to speak again, no matter what it took.

But then the mood somewhat shifted. Ghirahim's hand slipped under his shirt, so that he held his palm flat against Link's back... and he stopped. Link was sure that he could feel his sobs shaking him. could feel the tension in him as he contemplated what this could possibly mean. And yet... something had changed in Ghirahim's mindset, he could feel it. He wasn't exactly certain what it was, couldn't quite read the air that hung over the two of them, and yet it managed to break Link's resistance, crumbling it into dust. A wave of fatigue fell over him like a blanket of snow and he relaxed into Ghirahim's touch, his sobs growing in strength.

After a moment of hesitation, Ghirahim's hand traveled further. His fingers touched every vertebrae. He finds small moles from when Link got more sun. He finds the scar from when Link backed into a coat rack. At first, he's rubbing, but it gradually just shifts into exploring. He finds the pale blond hairs at the nape of his neck, that tickle so much that Link has to hide his face deeper into the pillow. When Link finally stops sobbing, he realizes that Ghirahim is barely breathing, his hand having come to a stop somewhere around Link's lower back. Link didn't want to move, out of fear of causing Ghirahim to pull away. The older boy's gentle touch had actually managed to soothe him and calm him down again. Eventually, curiosity got the best of him, and with a sniffle, he slowly turned his head away from the pillow, enough so that half of his face was exposed and he was able to breath again. But as soon as Link turned, Ghirahim stiffened, his hand leaving Link's skin. When he turned further, needing to see Ghriahim's face, to see if that same expression of dislike was there... he found him blushing.

His eye had healed, as well as most of his other wounds, a while ago. He seemed more healthy too, having gained a bit more weight, and the bags under his eyes were less pronounced. So when Link looks at him, it's truly _him_. And Ghirahim is _blushing_ , unable to meet Link's eyes. Before Link can reach out, Ghiraihm is up and out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The loud bang causes Link to flinch, and it's all that he can do to sit there and stare after him, trying to process everything. He swallowed hard and rubbed at his itchy eyes, fighting off a headache. That was certainly... unexpected. He had no idea what to think of that.

After a moment, he shifted, adjusting his pillow so that it was propped up against the wall, where he leaned on it, feeling tired. stuffed up, and overall gross. His head lulled to the side, just far enough so that he could eye his copy of _Hamlet_ on the bedside table. It just made him think of Ghirahim and everything that he's done for him. A spark of memory draws his gaze down and away from the book. Ghirahim had left the soup, and it sat on the floor untouched. He debated over it for a total of a few seconds before bringing it up onto his lap again. He raised a hesitant spoonful and sipped. It was still warm, and sooooo good, and while he eats, the warmth fills his stomach, and he feels a gaping hole open in his heart...

He wanted Ghirahim to come back.

Link's eyed the door expectantly for the next little while, but his little bubble of hope was broken when it didn't open again, and Link finished his soup in solitude. Strange how he had wanted this very thing less than an hour ago, but now he longed for nothing more than Ghirahim's annoying presence.

Placing the, now empty, bowl back on the floor, Link twisted the blankets tightly around himself and curled up. Physically, the soup had definitely helped. His sinus's felt a little less stuffed, and it was good to have some sort of nourishment inside his sick body, but emotionally, he was even more messed up than he had been.

He thought about Ghirahim, and the possibility of him now going back to being cold and ignoring him most of the time. Or worse, looking at him with hatred and using Link as his punching bag.

Link's stomach clenched painfully.

In an attempt to distract himself, Link reached out and pulled _Hamlet_ off of his night stand and fiddled with the cover for a moment. Then, almost as if he were being compelled to, Link flipped through the pages until he paused on the end of Act II Scene II... and he started to read:

 _Now I am alone._

 _Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!_

 _Is it not monstrous that this player here,_

 _But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,_

 _Could force his soul so to his own conceit_

 _That from her working all his visage wanned,_

 _Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect,_

 _A broken voice, and his whole function suiting_

 _With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing—_

 _For Hecuba!_

 _What's Hecuba to him or he to Hecuba_

 _That he should weep for her? What would he do_

 _Had he the motive and the cue for passion_

 _That I have? He would drown the stage with tears_

 _And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,_

 _Make mad the guilty and appall the free,_

 _Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed_

 _The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,_

 _A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak_

 _Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,_

 _And can say nothing—no, not for a king,_

 _Upon whose property and most dear life_

 _A damned defeat was made._

 _..._

Oh great. Link stared at the text, a frown settled on his face. Very funny, universe, attacking him like that.

A few hours passed alone before he saw anything of Ghirahim again. By then, it had started snowing heavily outside, a rare, early November winter storm, and Link had been looking over Hamlet, trying to decipher what the lyrics to Ophelia's songs meant.

He heard the door click open, and Ghirahim looked in with another tray of food. He didn't speak a word, almost dismissive of Link's presence as he set down the meal, and collected the dishes from the last one. He was about to walk out, clearly avoiding him, when Link reached out for him, causing him to pause. His eyes narrowed as he stared down at the boy.

" _What?_ "

Link flinched, jerking his hand back and hiding it under the blankets. Hurt pooled in his stomach, and he tried not to look wounded at the curt answer that Ghirahim had given him. He looked away, unable to push down the disappointment that made itself present. He supposed that he had been correct in his assumption that Ghirahim was just going to return to his previous treatment towards him now, thanks to whatever had changed between them in that weird moment hours before.

He opted to stare down at his books while he waited for Ghirahim to _do something_ , nervously thumbing the pages. He truly wanted to ask for Ghirahim's company, simply fed up with sitting in bed, alone and sick, but he didn't think that he should even attempt to ask for that anymore.

Ghirahim considered him for just a moment, and then left the room, carrying the dishes. Link deflated. Immediately, tears pooled in his eyes and fell down his cheeks.

But then the door opened once again, and Ghirahim came in without the dishes. His eyes glued to the book rather than to Link, he promptly snatched it out of Link's hands, eyes skimming over the page he had been reading.

"Well, I'm glad you've finally gotten your hands on some good literature. _You're welcome._ Macbeth is good for nothing but female empowerment and riddles, and To Kill a Mockingbird is _dreadfully_ boring..."

Link looked up at him, expression drifting into one of surprise. Ghirahim had come back, taken his book from him, and was now sitting down on his bed. A cautious hope lifted his face, and he slowly began to brighten up when he realized that Ghirahim was planning on staying and keeping him company.

Ghirahim's eyes flickered to Link, who stared owlishly up at him. then, he reread the passage that Link had been struggling with. "Ophelia's singing about a man taking her virginity without marriage, idiot. Her and Hamlet were _obviously_ fucking. I wish her father would have suffered more, Hamlet killing him was a _mercy_. Good grief." He flipped back through to Act I, and began to read Polonius' part with a mocking tone, and Link had to stifle a giggle. He shifted, moving his pillow so that he could be more comfortable, and he relaxed against the wall, facing the older boy while he listened.

He liked this. This was nice.

"Have you read the part where Hamlet calls him a fish monger? He talks the _dunce_ in circles, it's _hilarious_." Ghirahim starts reading Hamlet's parts as well, and continues into the next scene without missing a beat. God, he has a beautiful voice... not that it was something that Link would _ever a_ dmit to him in person, but he made Shakespeare come to life. His asides and soliloquies as Hamlet were Link's favourite, because Ghirahim would pour so much emotion and his own dramatics into the mold of the prince. They were quite a lot alike...

Link slowly relaxed, his eyes beginning to droop as he listened to Ghirahim read. Despite knowing for a fact that this was an act, it almost seemed _real_ , and Link let himself play along, falling into that belief for just a little while. It was enough to have Link starting to nod off, and he struggled to stay awake, wanting to savour this moment, sure that it wouldn't happen again anytime soon, but he soon tumbled into the soft arms of sleep, and his body fell limp, half slumped against the wall. By the time that Ghirahim got to Polonius' death, Link was out like a light, his meal forgotten and his lips hanging slightly open as he let out soft snores. Ghirahim stops once a snore interjects his aside, and for the first time in the hour looks over at Link to se him flopped over onto his pillow, his feet resting on Ghirahim's lap.

Frowning, the older boy pushed the feet off of his lap, and stood. He set down the play with a huff, perturbed at not getting to finish it. " _Simpleton..._ " He left, with only a brief look at the younger boy, turning up his nose with a deep sigh, and shut the door begin him.

 _He sits on the floor, feeling puffier than a marshmellow and flipping through 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. It was a little harder to understand than the other books in his classroom, and some words, he didn't really know, but he still thought it was interesting. Plus, papa had given it to him, and he wanted to love it for him. Excitement stirred in his stomach as he looked up at his father, eyes lit up impatiently._

 _"Can we go yet?" Link chirped, closing his book and grinning. His father chuckled, turning to look at him with amusement._

 _"Soon, Link," he assured him, crouching down and tugging his son's hat down over his eyes, smirking when it earned him a huff in return. "Mom is warming up the car. You don't want to freeze before we even get there do you?"_

 _Link shook his head, giggling as he struggled to pull his hat back in its rightful place with his thickly mittened fingers. "Noo, but I don't want to miss the movie!" Link squeaked. "All of my classmates have seen it, and it's all they talk about! It's supposed to be really good, and I'm_ _ **really**_ _excited to see it!"_

 _His father laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with affection. "Sorry we couldn't take you to see it before now, but we wanted to wait until your birthday. Eight years old!" He sniffled dramatically. "You're practically all grown up now!" Link snorted, rolling his eyes, and opened his mouth to correct him, but the door opening interrupted him, and his mother peered in, cheeks pink from the cold._

 _"That's some harsh weather out there," she commented, stepping inside. The last time I saw snow this thick in March was when I was 12!" She adjusted her hat and grinned at her husband and son. "Are we all ready to go?"_

 _A grin split onto Link's face, and he set his book down, struggling to get his warmly bundle body into a standing position. His father chuckled, swooping him up into his arms and carrying him to the door, while Link squirmed, his patience nonexistent. His parents kissed, and his mother gave his father a worried look. He just shook his head._

 _"It'll be fine. It's just a half hour drive to the movies, and we'll be careful. Plus, I'm worried that our little hero might explode if we don't get going," he teased. Link nodded eagerly. Mama looked at him with an overwhelming amount of love, mixed with the slightest hint of worry, before she just smiled and shook her head, leaning forward to peck his forehead._

 _"All right you two, get into the car, then!" Link threw his hands up and cheered as papa carried him outside and settled him into the backseat of the car. Link shooed him away when he tried to buckle him in though._

 _"I'm not_ _ **five**_ _," he scoffed. His father blinked at him._

 _"My apologies, sir," he bowed, mouth tilting into a smile. "I forgot that you're eight now." Link nodded, squinting suspiciously at his papa as he laughed and shut his door, getting into the drivers seat. Link watched with eager eyes as his mother shut and locked the front door of their house before sliding into the passenger side. She twisted around to look at her son while papa started the car and backed out of the driveway._

 _"Are you excited?" She asked, face warm. Link nodded energetically._

 _"I'll finally have something to talk to the other kids about!" He chirped. "Then I'm sure that they'll like me!" His mother smiled at him, the edges soft as she encouraged him._

 _"Of course," she cooed, turning to face the front. "Who wouldn't like such a sweet, handsome boy like you?"_

 _Link flushed. "_ _ **Mom!**_ _" he whined, turned to stared out the window. "You're so embarrassing!" She just chuckled in return._

 _20 minutes passed, but it felt like an eternity to the small boy, and he quickly found himself growing bored. He could only amuse himself for so long by watching the snow whip past them, trying to see as far as he can through the stormy barrier._

 _"Papa, how long until we get there?" He called. His father chuckled, though the sound was strained._

 _"Soon, Link. Be patient." Link frowned at this, scooting to the very edge of his seat. The road began to lift, and a ridge was approaching them in a distance._

 _"But_ _ **how long**_ _exactly?" He probed, reaching out to touch his father's shoulder. "What if the movie starts without us? I don't want to be late to my first movie!"_

 _"I don't know, son. I need to concentrate right now though, so try to pass the time."_

 _His mother turned to look at him, her mouth set in a stern line. "Link, sit back in you seat properly!" She quipped. He huffed, but listened anyway, sliding back. She frowned, eyes flicking to the windshield. "You stay sitting and let your father concentrate, it's very hard to drive right now," she scolded him, her face taut. Under her breath, not intending for her son to hear her, she muttered "It's a lot worse than what the weather channel claimed it would be..."_

 _Link frowned, picking up on the feeling in the car. Uneasy, he opened his mouth to ask if anything was the matter, when he noticed the ridge rapidly approaching._

 _Something was wrong. Something was very wrong._

 _His father tried to turn, but the car seemed to skid, and it seemed like it happened too fast to be possible, but they left the road, and the car was turning... turning like the Zipper ride at the amusement park, but Link knew that it wasn't supposed to. He yelled, scared, the sound of metal banging down the cliff, scratching, denting, bending, hurt his ears. The windows shattered, and little cuts dug into his flesh, flying around him as the car rolled and rolled with no consideration for the terrified, screaming boy being jerked around in the back seat._

 _It seemed to last forever. Link was certain that it would never stop. He felt the air being forced out of his longs, and he struggled to breath._

 _And then it stopped._

 _The silence slammed over him with a defining bang, and he trembled, sobbing and gasping as he opened his eyes._

 _The car creaked above him._

 _Something was wrong with mama, she had this... piece of metal sticking out of her stomach. Her neck was in an unnatural position. Her body was limp as it hung up only because of the seatbelt and the metal, pining her to the seat. The car was still tilted weirdly, so she hung above him, and Link felt his heart pound._

 _"Ma..Mama," he gasped. eyes wide. He tried to get out of his carseat, but the thing was jammed, and it wouldn't let go of him. "Mama, help me!" He screeched, getting more and more hysterical as neither his father nor mother responded. "_ _ **I can't move, help me, help me mama, papa, please!**_ _"_

 _Red dribbled out of her mouth like a broken faucet, and Link screamed as it dripped onto his hand. He screamed and flailed and sobbed, terrified and cold, unable to move, unable to get his mama to answer him. She just dripped blood onto his skin, his father a limp, bloodied body in the seat next to her. He tore his throat until it hurt to just breathe. He was helpless, unable to do anything but sit there for the 3 hours it took for somebody to find them._

 _This was a nightmare. This had to be a nightmare. Oh god, this wasn't real._

Link bolted upright, flailing violently as he tried to escape the blanket tangled around his body. He screamed and panicked, his limbs banging into the wall in the process of trying to free himself, but he barely noticed.

He hadn't had that dream in months, hadn't been prepared to have it now, not after such a peaceful moment with Ghirahim.

Link's breathing sped up, to the point where he was on the verge of hyperventilating as he tried to get the imagine of his mother's blood and mangled body out of his mind. In his struggling, the small boy accidentally flung himself out of bed, and he hit the floor hard, eyes wide. Hamlet went flying, as did the food tray, sending carrots and mashed potatoes tumbling into the carpet. Link was a shaking, crying mess, the blankets on the floor with the rest of him. The wind howled and the snow coated everything outside in a thick white.

When he was able to focus on sounds again, he could hear Ghirahim talking downstairs, probably on the phone.

"...Yes, I understand. _Yes,_ I've been cooking, we haven't lost power. He's fine, just, let me call you back later..."

Link backed himself up against the wall, fat tears rolling down his pale face as his eyes locked on the window, where the wind whipped the snow harshly against the glass. He was trembling uncontrollably, the memory of that night burned into his mind, as fresh as if it had just happened earlier that night. Ghirahim hangs up, and Link can hear him climbing the stairs. Every step rings in Link's ears like breaking glass. His breathing just reminds him of his parents' silence.

Link is shaking, crying, trying to control himself when Ghirahim opens the door and is completely confused by the boy sitting in a mess on the carpet.

Link's wild eyes immediately flash over to him. He _knows_ that it's Ghirahim, somewhere in the calmer part of his brain, but his mind brings up the image of the firefighter who had pulled him out of the car first, of the medical professional who had pulled him away from his parents, who were still stuck there, of the officer who had held him back, restrained him as he kicked and screeched for his parents, to save his parents. He had been brought to the hospital, and they had told him that his parents were gone, that they weren't coming back. That there hadn't been a chance from the start. Had they even _tried_? How could they have possibly _known_ that?!

Deep down, he knew that they had already been dead by the time they had hit the ground, but it was easier to believe that maybe they could have been saved if somebody had only tried to save them first.

Panic still had a tight hold on his mind as Link tried to tell himself that this was Ghirahim that was standing at the door of his room at Gaepora's, not any of those people who had taken him from his parents, but he wasn't succeeding.

And when Ghirahim took so much as a step towards him, Link's muddled instinct took over, and he was on his feet and bolting around Ghirahim and down the stairs. He had to escape this. He didn't know exactly what he was doing, but he knew that he couldn't let them take his parents again. _He couldn't._

The walls seemed to confine him, and it was too hard to breath in here. He had to get out, had to leave so that he could _breath_.

It was still snowing, and his parents were freezing to death out there, and suddenly he was eight again and he had to get to them, had to make them stay. He fled for the front door.

He heard Ghirahim yell after him, but all that he thought about was the screaming of his parents as the car tumbled. They had been alive for that. So, so close to being alive...

Link fumbled with the doorknob, having to throw himself against the door to clear a path in the snow. He jumped into his boots, but he doesn't have time to bother with a jacket.

 _His parents. They're so close._

Ghirahim was yelling, trying to make sense of what he was doing, where he was going, but he just thinks about the foster homes, the therapists, the stupid nurses at the hospital when he was too young to understand what _impalement_ meant.

 _No, no! It's not too late._

He slammed the door shut in Ghirahim's face. The snow hits his skin like needles, glass, whiplash. And he's running for the trees, tears on his face turning to ice.

 _I'm coming, mom_.

Already, the cold wind was stinging his exposed skin painfully, but how could he stop for something as selfish as that? Mama and papa were still out there, and he had to get to them before it was too late, he had to save them. His ears seemed to burn as he pushed through the snow, thinking about what a horrible son he had been, leaving them there to die alone.

But he was coming back.

He couldn't stop.

He was so fucking close to his mom, he could _feel_ it.

He made it to the trees, tripping over himself and tumbling to the ground. His body was wracked with shivers, and his face seemed numb, but goddamnit he couldn't stop, he had to find them. _They can't be gone forever, they_ _ **couldn't**_ _do that to him!_

He pushed himself back up and bolted further into the trees.

He knew they were here.

An unseen chunk of ice trips him, and collapses again, rolling and falling... down a hill.

A hill! That was good! He was close, they had fallen down a steep hill when the car slid off the road!

But he gets to the bottom, pulling himself up, ad there's nothing... nothing but white. His feet are trapped in ice, his hands are frozen to the ground. He can't move.

 _They're gone._

He searches, head whirling left and right, but he sees nothing through the snow in his eyes, his hair, his face...

 _They're not here._

He tries to pull himself up frantically, but he can't feel his hands anymore. He coughs on icy air, and it hurts more than anything he's ever felt. He can't breathe.

 _They're gone forever. It was all a dream. And now he's going to die out here._


	6. Hold Me Down

The cold air seemed determined to snuff out Link's life as fast as possible: the wind howled around him, silencing what little amount of noise he _could_ make. Little bullets of ice sliced through his skin, carving it like sandpaper grinding on wood. Still on his hands and knees, unable to feel his fingers or his arms, frozen to the ground, Link coughed uncontrollably. Oh, dear God, it hurt so much, and there was nothing that he could do to stop it, not when he couldn't even move. If he could see, his hands would probably be a sickly shade of blue.

With a sigh that seemed barely able to slip past his lips, Link fell, crumpling into the snow completely as his arms gave up on him. He could feel the wind sweeping snowbanks over his spine, over his clothes, which were frozen solid and did nothing to keep out the chill. Eyes clamped shut, the boy could only lay there and wait, thinking about how much it hurt, about what was going to happen. His heart beat frantically, and his mouth struggled to suck in the frigid air.

He was going to die here. He had been so _stupid_ to have let his night terror and his panic set itself so firmly in his mind, to let him run into danger like this. What would Gaepora think? Oh, god, what about Zant and Zelda? Oh, Link hated himself so much for what he was about to put them through. The Skyward family had taken a chance on him, and taken him into their home and their lives, and this was how he was going to repay them.

He might very well be the worst person to have ever lived.

As Link laid there, he felt his terror consume him, as much as he tried to prepare himself for the inevitable. He was going to die, and it wouldn't be very long until he did, as he felt his conscious beginning to flicker, and the temptation of falling asleep mounted by the second. His thoughts began to slow down, until he found himself praying to his mother for the strength to not be afraid of seeing her again.

Time blurred. Link could very well have been there for years, or maybe a few minutes, but he had no way of knowing. The only way to know that time was, indeed, passing, was to feel himself slowly becoming numb, to feel the hurt beginning to soften around the edges, the cold pulling him into it's arms. His mind began to quiet, tilting softly as he let himself be lured into the escape of sleep, where the wind and ice couldn't bite him quite so harshly.

…and then he felt hands, scraping the snow off of his back, grabbing his body to try and lift him up, and he wonders if it's hi smother after all. If she's taking him away…

He's pulled close to someone's chest, and a blanket is wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels _warmth_.

It's enough for the tension to leave his body in one fell swoop, and he goes completely limp in his mothers' arms, overwhelmed with the idea of finally getting to see her again, after so many years. He wondered how his father was, how the afterlife was. Were his parents happy that Link had found another family before he had joined them, or would they be angry that he had replaced them? He tried to open his eyes, wanting to see his mama's face, but his lashes were still frozen shut, and all that Link could do was to let his mother's arm jostle him closer to her warmth. He trusted her to know what to do.

He had missed her so much.

But then the hands were touching his neck, feeling for his pulse, touching his face and his lips and his eyes, warming them, trying to figure out if he was still breathing, and Link became confused. If he was already dead, what was the point in doing all of this? Why were they still here…?

When Link managed to open his eyes, he doesn't see his mother, or his father… it's just Ghirahim. Out in the cold, gritting his teeth against the wind, his eyes wide and watering as he searched for signs of life. His hair was whipping around wildly, and his cheeks were a warm shade of pink. He's here, he's real, he's worried and he's _alive_.

Their eyes met. Ghirahim breathed out a sigh that vanished into a puff of steam, and as Link gripped onto his shoulders with all residual strength he has left, Ghirahim pulled him out of the snowbank, and towards home. Link felt the cold and exhaustion pulling him down, and he let his eyes droop. The panicked run through the snow had done him in, especially since his body was already worn out by the sickness, and if he could just take a quick nap, he could regain his energy, and stop feeling the edges of his consciousness flickering. But Ghirahim shook him, jerked him awake, gripped him tightly and, at times, yanked on his hair and pulled the blanket tighter.

 _Don't you dare_ , he seemed to say. _Wake the fuck up, or you'll never wake up again._

So Link pushed, and tried. He stumbled, but he forced his legs to work, to move. They would get though this together, or they would die together.

The walk back home felt longer than a year, and harder than a 10k run for Link. By the time that the house lights were visible, and they were in front of the door, Link felt ready to collapse, his body freezing and aching and hurting more than it had ever been before. His legs were just about to give up on him, and he swayed dangerously, tired, and weal, and _cold_. Ghirahim had to practically carry him inside, and as soon as they were in, he was pushing Link to the bathroom, boots and melting snow and all. He shoved the younger boy into the shower, got in with him and stripped him of the blanket and his shirt and his pants and his boots, and turned it to the hottest setting, letting the water run over him until his eyes were able to cry tears instead of ice, and he stopped shivering. Eventually, Ghirahim cast his wet jacket and boots to the side, and just held Link up, standing stronger than any man he had ever known.

When the cold finally seemed to loosen the tight grip it had on Link's body, disappearing swiftly, he let out a pained sigh and slumped against Ghirahim. He wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep, now that the danger had passed, as what little strength that he'd had seemed to have evaporated with the steam.

Ghirahim's hands found his neck again, taking his pulse, and Link couldn't do anything except lean into the touch. Then Ghirahim was grabbing his hands, bring them under the spray and inspecting them to see if they were still freezing. The warmth almost burned, waking Link up slightly from his stupor, and it had him struggling weakly for a moment, before he forced his eyes open.

He found himself staring directly at Ghirahim's chest. The chest that Link could very _clearly_ see through his soaked, white shirt. And suddenly, Link became incredibly aware of his surroundings, of the hot spray of the shower hitting his nearly bare body.

A small splash of color painted itself on his cheeks, struggling to stay there, but had his body been stronger and warmer, he'd have been bright red. His struggling began anew, with more purpose this time, seeking escape from this entire situation.

" _Stop,_ " Ghirahim interjected. "Your fingers are _freezing_. If you don't want to _lose_ them, I suggest you stay here." His voice sounded rough and painful, with no malice whatsoever. It sounds unnaturally flat and calm. He had been screaming, Link realized as it came back to him. He'd heard his name, and pictured his mother calling him. Ghirahim had been screaming Link's name outside, to try and guide him back towards home. He'd probably inhaled so much ice that his throat was littered with cuts. The man was still shaking, whether form the cold or form rage, Link didn't know, but all he could do was weep...

His chest was so warm... and Link could see ever ridge, every muscle. Link pushed aside his embarrassment and leaned against it, feeling his guilt wash over him, mixing with the water falling on his back. Body aching from what he know recognized as a near death encounter, he let slip a weak whimper and allowed Ghirahim to do what was needed.

Once satisfied that his hands were warm, Ghirahim guided Link's hair under the spray, running his fingers through it to melt the ice still dripping from it. But soon afterwards, he leaned to to inspect Link's feet, forcing another wave of embarrassment and... something else he wasn't paying attention to... through him. Link leaned against the wall while Ghirahim did this, eyes drooping and the water soothing his skin. It was only as he gazed at Ghirahim through half-lidded eyes that he realized..

The older boy had saved his life. Without his quick thinking, or his dedication to find him, Link would be dead, buried under a mound of snow somewhere in the forest. A swell of gratitude swallowed him whole.

Ghirahim's hair was soaking wet, falling in strands over his face. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes, as he felt Link's feet to make sure that they where adequately warm before he stood, and shut off the water. As soon as he pulled back the curtain, he reached into the cupboard to grab the largest towel that they had, his wet clothes and hair dripping dripping all over the floor. He wrapped Link in it, tightly, still as focused as he had been while out in the storm. Link shivered and clutched the towel around him, relieved to finally be getting warm again. He sniffled, nose slightly runny as he thawed.

With his body back to a safe temperature, Link felt his drowsiness increase tenfold, and he yawned, trying to gather up the strength required to walk up to his room and climb into bed. But it seemed that Ghirahim wasn't done just yet. He wrapped a second towel around Link for good measure, but when it came time to bring him out of the bathroom, he was oddly unmoving.

Still gripping the second towel, his hands began to shake, and he grit his teeth. The adrenaline was gone. At that was left was pure _rage_.

"Were you trying to kill yourself?!" He spat, and Link reeled from the change in tone, wondering dimly if Ghirahim's throat would bleed after all of this. When he didn't get an answer, the older boy shook him, fury growing steadily. " _Answer me! Were you trying to fucking kill yourself?!_ "

Link was too shocked to cry out as Ghirahim's grip tightened. Wide eyed, he shook his head vigorously, staring at him with stunned fear. Had he been trying to... no! Of course not! Why would he even think that?

Realization dawned on him. Ghirahim couldn't possibly know that. As far as the older man knew, Link had just suddenly decided to run out in the middle of a snowstorm without any protection on. The guilt churned.

Ghirahim didn't understand. Of course he didn't.

" _Then what the fuck were you THINKING, YOU IDIOT?!_ " Ghirahim screamed, loud enough to cause Link to stumble backwards. "WHAT IS GOING THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL, YOU IMPOTENT CHILD?! DID YO UDO THIS SIMPLY TO SPITE ME?! WAS THIS ANOTHER BARBARIC TEST OF MY WILL TO BE KIND TO YOU?!" Ghirahim shoved him against the wall, his shouts echoing through the entire house. When Link opened his eyes, trying to convince himself to breathe, he sees _tears_ in Ghirahim's own...

" _WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO TELL GAEPORA?!_ "

Link shrank back, feeling 300 times more guilty now than he had just minutes before, especially at the tears. If he had died, it would have been on Ghirahim to admit to everybody what had happened. To tell them that he had ran out, under Ghirahim's watch, and died.

And he still has to mention this incident to Gaepora, even if Link wanted the man to know nothing at all about this.

What he wanted more than anything else was to explain to Ghirahim what had happened and why he had run out, that it hadn't just been a suicidal whim, but he couldn't bring himself to speak, and for the first time, he felt pure frustration at himself for his inability. His eyes bore into Ghirahim, filled to the brim with his guilt, shame, frustration and regret. Fuck, he needed to fix this.. how on earth could he explain this?!

If anything, Ghirahim's fury grew, and he forced himself closer, yelled louder. "YOU INSOLENT BASTARD! YOU WERE WILLING TO _KILL_ THIS FAMILY WITH GRIEF OUT OF YOUR OWN LUDICROUS IDIOCY! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I'VE BEEN LIVING HERE?! SIX YEARS, FOUR OF WHICH I'VE BEEN SPENDING TRYING, CLAWING _TOOTH AND NAIL_ TO BE EMANCIPATED! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I'VE BEEN ASKED TO STAY HERE?! _NOT ONCE!_ " Ghirahim heaved, his whole body quaking. "AND YET, YOU WALTZ IN AND SUDDENLY GAEPORA'S EXCUSES VANISH! SUDDENLY, ZELDA WANTS ANOTHER BROTHER. SUDDENLY, HE CAN AFFORD TO ADOPT A THIRD CHILD. SUDDENLY, HE CAN STAND DOTING ON YOU HAND AND FOOT FOR ISSUES HE DOESN'T HAVE THE FAINTEST CONCEPT OF! YOU ONLY NEEDED TO BE HERE FOR A MONTH, FOR THEM TO GIVE YOU WHAT I HAVE _FOUGHT MY ENTIRE LIFE TO ACHIEVE!_ AND _YOU_ , YOU SNIVELLING FUCKING PIG, WERE WILLING TO _THROW IT ALL AWAY JUST TO WATCH ME SUFFER!_ "

Link listened in shocked silence, shrinking further away, _finally_ understanding why Ghirahim hated him so much. It only served to make his guilt grow and swamp him, filling his stomach and climbing up his throat until he felt like he might choke. It seemed like years and years worth of tears were pouring from Ghirahim's eyes, like being here right now had uncorked over a decade of abuse and negativity.

" _YOU FUCKING IDIOT!_ I'VE WORKED LONG HOURS EVERY NIGHT AFTER SCHOOL, SUPPORTING MYSELF FROM THE GROUND UP! I PAY FOR EVERYTHING I OWN, ALL OF THE SPACE I TAKE UP IN THIS HOUSEHOLD, AND FOR WHAT?! I FOR ONE KNOW WHEN I AM UNWANTED. ZANT VALUES YOUR WORTHLESS AFFECTION FAR MORE THAN HE WILL EVER VALUE MY EXISTENCE. ZELDA WILL GLADLY BRAID YOUR HAIR FOR HOURS, WHILE MINE IS JUST AS LONG! YET, YOU COULD HAVE RUINED ZELDA'S BIRTHDAY FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHEN ZANT'S BIRTHDAY IS, OR HIS MIDDLE NAME, OR HIS FAVOURITE HOLIDAY! YOU ARE A WORTHLESS, IDIOTIC CREATURE WHO HAS TAKEN _EVERYTHING_ FROM ME WITH _HALF_ OF THE TALENT!"

Ghirahim can't help it, his voice breaks, his hands claw at is eyes as they spill tears after tears... he is shattering. And all Link can do is listen and watch like an idiot, hearing how he had ruined Ghirahim's life. He hadn't wanted to do that! He had just wanted to find a home, a family! He takes a shaky step forward, _needing_ to help somehow, but not knowing what to do. He hated seeing the boy like this. It unnerved him.

He reached out a hand, seeking to offer some comfort, but, without hesitation, as soon as Link touched him, Ghirahim slapped his hand away with force. Link flinched back with a yelp, his eyes wide open to see the expression Ghirahim's face twist deeper and deeper into despair and rage, his clenched teeth bared and eyes mere slits of water and anguish. The back of Link's hand stung with a red mark.

"...Don't you have another life to ruin?!" Ghirahim spat at his feet. " _I hope you stay silent, forever!_ " He rasped, before whirling on his feet, throwing the door open and slamming it shut behind him, the hinges shrieking until they snapped apart.

Link stared at the broken door, shaking like a life, feeling his words digging deep into his heart and lungs like knives made to kill.

Ghirahim... Ghirahim wanted him to be silent forever? He hated him, Link had ruined his life, and he wanted Link to never find his words.

He felt his heart crack into two painful halves before shatter into a million pieces, holding back a sea of tears.

There, he stayed, standing and clutching his towel around himself like a shield, for what felt like hours. He was the worst person to ever live. It would just be so much easier for everybody if he had never been born. When he took a step forward, he almost felt like he was in a trance, his footsteps slow and quiet, padding towards his room. His eyes were trained on the floor, tired and empty, and all he could think about was what Ghirahim had said, after he had saved him, how much Link must have scared him. And he knew that he owed the boy an explanation.

He pushed open the door to his room, as quiet as a mouse, and shuffled inside. The house was way too quiet, and Link stood on his carpet and stared at his desk, feeling helpless. A prisoner to the tense air.

When his gaze slid over his notebook, he was jerked out of his trance, and into a sharp awareness. He knew what he had to do. He also knew that it probably wouldn't fix anything: Ghirahim had said what he'd said, and Link had done what he'd done, and nothing he did was going to change those two important factors. But it didn't have to change anything.

He just needed Ghirahim to _understand_.

Link took his journal and into his hands, settling himself at his desk and flipped through the pages were all of the words he couldn't speak had been stored. When he found the entry that he had been looking for, quite easily, due to the shaky handwriting, he took a deep breath and ripped it out. Those four pages contained every last detail of his nightmare, from the first time that he had woken up in a screaming, sobbing mess. This way, he wouldn't have to rewrite the entire dream, wouldn't have to deal with that. Instead, he set them aside, and flipped to a new, blank page, grabbing his pen and sucking in a shaky breath, fighting against his tears.

And he wrote.

 _I ran because of this. The dream. When I was eight, my parents brought me to the movies, for my birthday. It wasn't supposed to snow that day, but a freak storm hit. And.. this happened._

 _I'm sorry I didnt explain to you. I tried to, but i cant speak. I used to talk a lot, before the accident. For months beforehand, i talked and talked about this new movie, how everyone had already seen it, how if you didnt see it, you couldn't sit and eat lunch with everyone who had. I begged and begged to go, even though they ahd to work extra shifts to get enough for the tickets and the gas. And then we did go, and I talked too much in the car, I distracted dad, and we skidded of the road._

 _Sometimes... sometimes im scared that it might have been my fault. That if i never said anything, they would still be alive right now. And that's why I can't bring myself to.. speak._

 _It feels like i killed them._

 _I used to have this dream every night, and after a while, every few nights. It became less frequent, and I didn't have it at all since getting here, so it freaked me out a lot. I overreacted._

 _I was trying to find my mom and dad, trying to find the car that obviously wasn't anywhere near here. I just miss them so much, and I really didn't mean to scare you. To... to ruin your life. I wish they were still alive, so that I could be with them and be happy, and so that you could have your life without me and be happy. because you were right when you said I ruin lives. I killed my parents. I messed everything up with you, almost messed up this family._

 _I've been through a lot of foster homes. Nobody there understood at all, or tried to understand, they just tried to get me to talk, but i was grieving, and they were trying to force me to do something i wasnt ready for. Some even tried slapping or shaking me when they got frustrated. I had been very lonely for so long, and when I came here, I didn't expect to stay. I thought that you would all hate me too, think me weird. But they like me, i guess, and .. im sorry for what it's done to you._

 _All of your gifts have been appreciated, i swear. i do think i really like you, i want to give you some of my words, but you dont want that, and i understand._

 _I wasn't writing this to excuse what i did, what i continue to do. I just thought you deserved an explanation. and nobody else on this planet knows this, i kind of.. i guess i wanted you to be the one to know. If i ever start talking again, I'll answer as many questions as you want. you don't have to forgive me: i wouldn't blame you._

 _I'm really sorry._

 _Link_

Tears dripped onto the page, as he set down the pencil, shaking and wiping his eyes, taking in small gasps of breath. He had to... had to pull himself together. He placed the newly written pages on top of the older ones, folded them, and then got up to creep over to Ghirahim's door.

And with a deep breath, he slid the papers that held more of his life and his secrets than anybody alive knew of him, under the door before retreating back to his own room and laying down on the bed.

Link falls into a light doze when no sounds at all come from across the hall, and his nerves end up wearing him done to the bone. Sniffling, he was jerked back into full awareness when, hours later, he hears Ghirahim's door open. He doesn't know if Ghirahim read his letter. He doesn't know if he forgives him at all. He doesn't count on it.

For a while, Link just hears dead air. Then, in the most bruised and empty voice he's ever heard, Ghirahim tells him.

"...Gaepora, Zant and Zelda are in a hotel for the night. They will be back tomorrow, when the roads are clear."

And that's it.

Ghirahim heads downstairs, grabs the mop, and starts cleaning all of the wet patches of melted snow and ice on the floorboards. He doesn't say another word for the entire night, and Link just stays in his locked room, a blanked around his shoulders, and feeling like his birth was the largest mistake that anybody had ever made. He twists around in his bed so that he can stare out the window, watching the snow fall whipping around outside as the room gradually got darker. When he can no longer see enough outside to watch the snow, he lays back on his bed and stares at the ceiling. He's used countless tissues, some for his cold but others just to mop up his tears.

He's so tired of crying.

There's a part of him that wants to sit in silence, awake and contemplating for the entire night. Yet, another large part of him wills for him to rest, to sleep, to leave this pain for tomorrow...

When he drifts off, it isn't peaceful.

He dreams of Ghirahim.

Except, the other boy isn't looking at Link like he's the scum of the earth. Instead, he stood before him, expression a relaxed, neutral, his shirt off, and Link couldn't stop his eyes from traveling to his chest. Ghirahim was.. fit, to say the least. Not all muscles, but... slightly toned. He looked good.

He flushed.

When his eyes drifted upwards once more, Ghirahim smirked at him, seeming to read his mind, and took a step closer, gazing at Link in a way that sent shivers down the smaller boy's spine, left something to be desired, and something to be expected. Another step closer..

Link woke up with a few new emotions mixed into the pot: confusion and shame. Had he... did he just dream of Ghirahim in what might be considered to be not friendly? And was he... holy shit.

He was a little hard.

Oh dear.

It took more time than Link was willing to admit to calm his breathing and heart rate down. He blinked at the light spilling in from his window, feeling a mess of emotions, but mainly a sense that he should feel very, _very_ guilty for the actions of his unconscious brain.

From downstairs, he heard muffled speech, that, with a start, he could identify as Ghirahim and Gaepora.

"...in the snow, last night..."

"... _my_ God...

Immediately, his dream was forgotten, and he shrank in his spot. Creeping over to his door, he sat down, pressed against it to hear better. Great. Gaepora knew that he was stupid now. He just wondered how much Ghirahim had told the man: had he just explained _what_ had happened, or did he also reveal the _why_ , what Link had given him as information? He buried his face in his knees, wishing that Ghirahim hadn't said anything at all. How could Link ever face any one of them ever again? They would know now exactly how stupid he was, how much of a bother he was.

He stayed there for twenty minutes, motionless, only catching bits and pieces of conversation that made him feel even worse. He wasn't sure where Zelda and Zant were, but he was certain that they were hearing this... that they knew what he did.

...and then there's a loud knock on the door. Not Link's door, but the front door. There's an audible pause int he conversation, and then Gaepora opens it.

"... _Demise. Welcome, come in._ "

Link jerked up in alarm. Demise... that was Ghirahim's abusive dick of a father, wasn't it? What the hell would he be doing here? What was going on?

Quietly, he got to his feet and opened his door, hurrying over to the stairs and descending a few so that he could peer down to where the front door was, and the living room, but he couldn't be seen. He had a bad feeling about this, and he'd rather be closer, where he could listen more clearly. With suspicion, he settled himself on the 5th stair and peeked down.

Demise didn't look like what Link imagined he would. When he thought of Ghirahim's father, he saw someone who looked nothing like Ghirahim, who stumbled as he walked, carried a bottle with him everywhere... an _other_. An entity that bore no resemblance to the boy he'd met. But Demise doesn't look like an alcoholic. He's tall, attractive and well-built. He looked like he worked out, or at least got frequent exercise. He had Ghirahim's hair. He had Ghirahim's way of carrying himself. And he had Ghirahim's eyes... those deep, mysterious brown eyes that almost looked purple in the right light.

Link sees this, and he hates the man for it.

Zant and Zelda are on the couch; Zelda teary-eyed and Zant resolutely holding her hands in his own. And then there's Ghirahim, who looked like he hadn't slept a wink, who was standing behind Gaepora, trying to take shelter.

"I'll only take a second of your time," Demise said. " _I'm taking my son home."_

The words felt like a slap to the face, and Link was immediately on his feet.

... _Ghirahim was about to be taken away_.

No. No, Gaepora wouldn't allow that. He _couldn't_! Link clenched his fist at the sheer audacity of Demise to waltz right in here and expect to take his son back, after everything that he'd done, while Ghirahim was practically a part of this family. He couldn't leave! But before Gaepora can even speak, before Link can even rationalize the thought process Demise is following in showing up here and now, Ghirahim interjects.

"...Fine."

That's it. That's all. Empty and void of any fighting power. And even Gaepora seemed to despair as Ghirahim circled around him, heading to meet his father at the door.

On the couch, tears spring to Zant's eyes too. the siblings clutch each other's hands and weep silently, as Ghirahim puts on his boots and zips up his new jacket.

No. _No, no no._

 _It can't end like this._

" _ **W-wait**_!"

Without giving it a moment of though, he throws himself down the stairs and bolts across the floor, past everybody, and reaches out to tug _hard_ on Ghirahim's arm, so that the boy stumbled backwards, farther away from Demise. His eyes stung with tears. His throat hurt from disuse. The last time he had heard himself, it had been with the high pitch of an 8 year old kid. It's deepened since then, raspy with disuse.

But that had definitely been his voice.

With tear filled eyes that glared at Ghirahim accusingly, he managed to choke out another plea. "Y-you can't just _leave_!"

For a long moment, time seemed to slow. Ghirahim was staring at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

He was _right._ He had gotten Link to speak. But soon, his brows pressed together and his jaw snapped shut. There was hurt there, and confusion, and lingering anger.

Zelda and Zant were gaping at him, and Gaepora wore a tattered but proud smile. Link felt a hand rest on his shoulder, the man behind him murmuring his name.

" _You can't just... sprint here trying to be heroic, and expect us to be friends. Nor write me a letter, not even speak to me... that is not how I work,_ " Ghirahim hissed out.

But Demise had had enough of this, and he yanked Ghirahim back towards him, making him struggle to stay standing, and his head bow low.

" _Get in the car."_

And, to everyone's dismay, Ghirahim obeyed, slamming the door shut behind him.

The tears that had gathered in Link's eyes began to fall, and he filled with anger and hurt. No. No, he wasn't just leaving like that, not _now_! The boy sprinted up to the car, clutching at the door handle and swinging it open with force. In a last ditch attempt, Link threw himself into the vehicle so that he could stare directly at Ghirahim, right into his eyes.

" _Please_ ," he begged, voice quivering, rasping, laced with hurt. "Please don't go, _please don't leave, not after I told you everything!_ " His hands reached out to clutch at Ghirahim's jacket stubbornly.

But Ghirahim retracted from his touch, shouting at him through gritted teeth. " _This is not a domain under my control, you imbecile, now get out before-_ "

Link felt a hand seize the back of his shirt, scratching the skin, and forcibly throw him out of the car. He landed in the snow, and when his tearful eyes opened, Demise was standing directly in front of him, grimacing like he could crush Link's skull under his boot if he wished.

" _Control your child, Gaepora! I don't tell you how to aprent, so I refuse to be told so!_ " Demise slammed Ghirahim's car door shut. Link didn't miss how Ghirahim jumped. " _I know my rights! My son isn't of age yet, and until he is, if I see him anywhere near this lot, I will sue you for everything you have!_ "

Link let out a cry of frustration and protest, forcing himself back on his feet. In a surge of anger, and without thinking about the consequences, he threw himself at Demise, his entire body shaking with how unfair this was. Fists were thrown out, and they landed over and over on Demise's chest, aiming to hurt him, to stop him from taking Ghirahim, from _hurting_ Ghirahim anymore. The man can't do this! He kicked Ghirahim out, he doesn't get to tell the boy what to do anymore! How _dare_ he!

But while Demise was perfectly content to hit Ghirahim, he doesn't hit Link. He merely stomped away from him, towards the driver's seat, until Gaepora swooped in to restrain him. Link kept thrashing, tears falling and fists flying until Gaepora held the boy close to his chest, shushing him, asking him to relax, trying to calm him down.

" _Foolish courage_ ," Demise spat, as he got into the car, and it started to leave.

When the car pulled out of the driveway, Link finally lets himself break. Loud, heart wrenching sobs explode from his mouth, and with a sudden spur of strength, he struggled free of Gaepora's grasp and swung around, running back into the house.

He ignores Zelda and Zant, instead, fleeing up the stairs and into his room, where he slammed the door hard enough for the bang to echo around the house. A flick of his fingers locks the door, and he flings himself onto his bed to cry his heart out.

And cry he does. It seems like hours pass, yet the heavy feeling doesn't lift from his chest, and tears continue to pour from his eyes.

He's gone.

Link had told him everything about himself, trusted him more than anybody, had _given him his words_ , and the boy had just left. Back to his abusive house, back to his father.

Nothing seemed to be able to make him feel better, to get hid of the overwhelming feeling of unjust, so when he saw ' _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ ' on his bed stand, he picked it up and threw it across the room. That earned him just a hint of satisfaction, so he threw Hamlet too. And then his journal. His pillows, his blankets...

He felt like screaming. He finally, _finally_ opened up to somebody about _everything, and th_ ey left him _alone_! Ghirahim stole his words! How could the boy do this?! **It wasn't fair.**

Link's knees buckled, and he fell to the floor, choking on his sobs. He wanted to tear his own hair out. He wanted to destroy his room. He wanted to scream and cry until his voice broke and he was silent again.

He spent what felt like another hour wailing and crying, and he knew that the entire house could hear him, but he didn't care. When his sobs dissolved into whispers and whines, he reached for the books on the floor, hugging them to his chest.

And he opened _Hamlet_ , remembering Ghirahim's voice as he'd read to him...

 _'O that this too solid flesh would melt,_

 _Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!_

 _Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd_

 _His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!_

 _How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable_

 _Seem to me all the uses of this world!_

 _Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,_

 _That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature_

 _Possess it merely.'_

He glared at the passage. Why would the other boy buy him all of these books, why would he even bother with getting Link to talk if he was just going to completely betray and shatter him when he got what he wanted?!

Link hated Ghirahim. Link hated Ghirahim with a passion, with all of his heart, and he never wanted to see the other boy again.

He hated him for doing this.

 _He hated him_.


	7. Make Me (Cry)

The tear that his parents had created when they died, which had been healing for the past nine years, seemed to reopen. Except now it felt worse than before. Ghirahim had given him false love, had pretended to care for him, but to Link, it had felt so _real_ and it had been exactly what he needed to begin to feel better. Not pity, not frustration at his silence, but a patient, innocent, kindness directed at him.

But then he left Link in tatters, back at square one.

The small boy didn't leave his room. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't see anyone. All he seemed capable of doing was crying out his fresh grief, and when the tears stopping coming, he just sat in empty silence, staring out the window. He stopped sleeping, lucky to get a few hours at night that were plagued with night terrors.

 _'I hate you'_ , he told Ghirahim in his thoughts. ' _I hate you and I never want to see you again because of what you did to me. I'll never forgive you for being just like everybody else._ '

Zelda would repeatedly come knock on his door, saying that she loved him, and was worried about him, that she missed Ghirahim too, that she wanted to see his face again. Gaepora would always call when it was time for dinner, hoping beyond hope that maybe, this time, just this once, Link would come out and eat. Link didn't hear from Zant. But, after all, he had just lost seeing his best friend...

...that is, he didn't hear from Zant until late one night. Zant didn't knock, he didn't ask him to leave, he just pressed his palm to the door, and said, "...Link, he's on the phone. He wants to hear you."

That had Link jerking up, head snapping to stare at his door. He didn't speak. He didn't make any move towards the entrance.

...why would Ghirahim want to talk to _him_? Just last week, hadn't he screamed in Link's face that he hoped the boy never found his words? Was he going to tell Link how much he hated him, how this was all his fault? Was he hoping to make Link feel like even worse shit?

Empty eyes stared with a small hint of suspicion at the doorknob. Was this a trick to get him to open his door? ...no. Zant wouldn't do something like that.

He tried to tell himself that he should just ignore this. FUCK Ghirahim and his phone call, because it would just end up hurting Link even more than he already was.

...yet, somehow, his heart disagreed, crying out and straining against his ribcage, begging him to go, to take the phone, to _hear_ him. Unable to resist such a strong urge, his breath catching in his throat and his stomach squirming, he got to his feet and shuffled to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open, just a crack. The hallway was dark, but Link could see the glow of the phone in Zant's hand. It casted shadows over the older brother's features; the deep creases under his eyes, the tears on his face, the anguish in the way he carried himself... the call was on speaker. He could hear shuffling on the other end of the line, and knew that it was Ghirahim, and that he wanted to speak to him...

 _Why?_

Link couldn't bare looking at Zant, knowing that he probably looked like shit. He had lost weight, his body worn down from the grief, and lack of sleep and food. He had heavy bags under his eyes, and he was certain that his face mirrored the lost, empty feeling that seemed to swallow him whole.

He wrapped his arms around himself self-consciously, staring at the phone. His throat felt like shit, and the only time that he had used his voice since Ghirahim had left was to scream and cry. It was all he could manage to choke out, when a tired "What," came tumbling from his lips. He dimly registered how the sound hurt.

Link was expecting anything other than what he got. " _...I don't hate you. You're still a fucking idiot, but I don't hate you._ " Ghirahim's voice was quiet and raspy, but Link could tell that it was him. "Of course it's my dramatic exit that finally unlocks your words. Of fucking course... stop sulking. I'm fine, you imbecile.."

Tears gather in his eyes, and he wrapped his arms tighter around himself. He didn't know if he believed that. He didn't think that Ghirahim was really okay. He was claiming that he didn't hate Link, but he had completely left him to fall apart. He had yelled at him, and ignored him, and gotten into that car without thinking about what that would mean to the small boy. Suddenly, his words rise to the surface of his being, and he's vomiting out sentences, hurt, and frustrated, and tried, and _angry_.

" _No_ , you're _not_ fine!" He snapped, voice breaking. "You were here, _safe_ , and making me food and buying me books, and pretending to give a shit and I _liked it_! You went in the snow, found me and saved my goddamned life, and for what? I told you everything. _I told you everything, Ghirahim!_ Do you understand that there isn't a single, living soul on this _planet_ that knows what you now do, and you just throw that away like yesterday's trash, going back to that house like it's nothing! Like.. Like _I'm_ nothing! Without a second thought! What am I supposed to do now?!"

He hasn't talked this much in nine years, and his throat gets more and more torn as his volume slowly rises to a frustrated yell. But Link ignores it, glaring at the phone as hurt bled into his tone. "And you're never going to come back, because all you want to do is hide there and call and _claim_ that you don't hate me, that you're fine, that I should just go along as if everything is fine, when _nothing is okay, and it will never be okay again!_ " He has to stop for a moment to cover his mouth, muffling a sob. "So yeah. You wanted to hear me? Fine, hear this, you asshole: If you don't hate me, than **fucking prove it.** "

Everything crashes over him, and it's too much for him to handle, so he slams his door shut again without saying goodbye, throwing himself on the bed to muffle his sobbing.

Zant jumps, and more tears fall. He covers his mouth, trying to fight back sobs. Ghirahim hears what happened, and pauses, thinking. Through the door, Link hears him say, "...If you think that I'm some kind of _coward_ for coming back here, then you are _sorely_ mistaken! But, if you wish to _see my face_ , then _so be it_. Meet me at the convenience store on Main Street. _Tonight_. Zant can drive you."

Link calms down, wiping furiously at his eyes as he considers it.

He shouldn't.

He _really_ shouldn't. He's so tired, and he doesn't really feel like getting out of bed, let alone leaving his room and going for a drive. But he finds himself heading back towards the door. Quietly, he pulled it open again and gave Zant a miserable look. God, he's the worst person on earth.. his older brother looks so terrible.

He reached out a hand and laid it on Zant's arm for just a second before he snatched it back, a numbness washing over him again. And, in the same tone of voice that he had started in, he gave Ghirahim a short, tired, "Fine," before retreating into his room once more. The call ended, and Zant turned his phone into flashlight mode. Hesitantly, he stepped forward into Link's room, his eyes peering around at the mess and disarray. There are clothes and blankets and pillows on the floor, along with the books, breadcrumbs and dust. The bulb in his lamp has burnt out, and he hasn't been able to change it.

Link is tying his hair back and putting on a sweater, when he feels arms wrap around his shoulders. They hug him tightly, and Zant's forehead is pressed against his hair. Tears drip down his neck, but he doesn't mind. He doesn't pull away. For the first time in a week, he lets himself relax into the comfort of another human being.

His own tears build up. His heart twists.

And suddenly, Link misses Zant, his warmth, his presence, with such a strength that he swings around and throws his arms around his brother's waist, holding on tightly.

 _I'm sorry for how I've been hurting you. I'm sorry for locking myself away. I'm sorry that I drove Ghirahim away, this is all my fault._

Zant clings to him even tighter, his body wracked with sobs. His hands tremble as they grasp at Link's sweater, holding onto him as if he's what's keeping Zant alive. He buries his face in Link's shoulder as his hands are constantly shifting, seeking to hold Link tighter, longer... he misses him, Link realized. It only served to make his chest constrict further. With everything going on, he had plenty of time to stew in negative thoughts.

Surely the family would see, now, how fragile he was? How much of a horrible son, a horrible little brother he was, that he was too broken to be of any use to them? Maybe they would send him away now.

But Zant was _here_. He had missed Link, and he was hugging him. There was so much the smaller boy wanted to _say_ to him. He wanted to catch up, he wanted to babble to him about everything, but they didn't have time for that now. When they both felt better, Zant wiped his eyes, taking Link's hand in one of his, and flapping the other around. Stimming, Link realized.

"...I'm sorry. I didn't... I..." Zant fumbled. "...I'm happy to see you."

Link held on tightly to the offered hand, sniffling quietly. Giving a watery smile, he speaks with a voice that was quiet and raspy. The more he used it, the more it seemed to clear up, but it was still adjusting to the new activity.

"s-okay. I'm.. sorry. I missed you, I just-" He broke off before he could even mention Ghirahim's name. Deep breath in. Try again. "I'm happy. To see you too, I mean." He cringed and looked down, swallowed hard. His voice sounded like shit, and he wasn't used to hearing it yet, and was still getting used to talking, both physically and emotionally. But he wanted to be able to talk freely with Zant.

"Your voice is great," Zant blurts, and then lifts his hand to scratch at his hair, nervous. "I... I mean. I'm bad at understanding. I don't... know what people are thinking. Emotions are hard... so talking helps," he gives a watery smile, chewing on his lip. "I'm sorry... It helps if you talk. So I can understand. I'm just excited. Your voice is great!" He clenches his empty fist tight enough that his nails dig into his palm. Link blinks up at him for a moment before his face breaks out in a shy smile, lighting up with joy.

"I'm sorry that I didn't.. that it took me so long," he rasped. "I couldn't.. it's.. complicated."

"Did Ghirahim help..." Zant murmered, and it took Link some time to process it as a question. "He helped me. I loved reading but not talking. But he knew I could. I was just scared. Scared of dad. Scared of Zelda... I'm not anymore."

Link jerked towards him, intrigued. Ghirahim had helped Zant as well? That would explain how he had somehow figured out that Link was scared of him, scared of talking in general, and did so with ease. He had seen it before, in Zant. "He made it a personal goal to get me to talk. Even though he had claimed he didn't like me."

Zant actually burst out into laughter, going into fits of giggles that last for so long Link starts to get worried. But as soon as he calms down, he's quick to explain. "H-he-he told me that too! he thought I was weird. He didn't like Gaepora. He thought Zelda was annoying. He said I was a lost cause... But he taught me to drive. Gave me lessons. He acted like I sucked. Then became my best friend!"

"S-seriously?" Link squeaked, shocked. Somehow, he had always assumed that the pair of boys had been friends from the moment that they met. He never would have guessed that Ghirahim had treated Zant in the same fashion that he had treated Link.

Zant beamed down at him. "Come on. Let's go see him." The look in his older brother's eyes is enough to ease some of the tension in him. It was his last chance to back down, but... he couldn't disappoint Zant like that, could he? And regardless of what Ghirahim had done, Link felt the strong urge to see him.

He had to know.

So when Zant guides him downstairs and towards the garage, Link goes with a warmth in his chest that he can't ignore. They climb into the car, and he leans over to lay against Zant's shoulder, feeling like his mind and his body aren't at war, for the first time in a week.

He relaxed. And with barely 8 hours of sleep under his belt in total for the week, he nods off into a light sleep almost immediately when the car starts and rolls into the dark night, humming soothingly.

Too soon, the car stops, and Zant unbuckles, turning to Link to wake him up. Yet as the older boy tries to rouse him, Link just groans. How he managed to fall asleep during a 15-minute drive, Zant can't fathom, and he feels bad to wake him, but brothers must do what brothers must do.

He gets out of the car and opens the passenger side to shake Link gently awake. The combination of the cold air and the shaking seems to do the trick, and Link reluctantly pulls himself from the depths of sleep and groans once more, though he sits up.

The sweet embrace of unconsciousness had been nice while it lasted, and his body cried for more as he struggled awake, but his mind forced himself into awareness, knowing that he'll get to see Ghirahim soon.

With blurry eyes that he rubs, Link climbs out of the car, stumbling behind Zant as the boy leads them into a small convenience store.

He blinks his eyes, getting them to focus.

And then he sees Ghirahim. He's in a uniform, giving an elderly gentleman a fake smile as he wishes him a good night and heads outside. As soon as he sees the both of them, he nods to an equally bored trainee that he's done with his shift, and hurries to the back. stripping off his work shirt. Link's jaw practically hits the floor, and he looks away, flushing red.

That's right... he now remembers that Ghirahim had mentioned having to work for everything that he owned. This must be where he did part time. His eyes travel back to the boy before falling away as a sudden shyness washes over him.

Ghirahim was changing his shirt, in clear view of him.

He flushes a deeper red, shrinking behind Zant so that he's out of immediate view.

What should he say to Ghirahim? What would the other boy say? What if he didn't say anything? Nerves fluttered restlessly in his stomach. _Fuck_ , suddenly, Link kind of regretted leaving the house. He was hyper aware of how shitty he must look. Did he comb his hair at all today? He couldn't remember. Shit, would Ghirahim notice?

He hid behind Zant, embarrassed, and his hands unconsciously reached out to grasp at his brother's jacket, seeking comfort and protection. But Zant peered down at Link, befuddled, turning slightly to get a better read on what he was doing. That made Link retreat even more, grasping the edge of his jacket even firmer.

When Ghirahim emerges from the back room, he's wearing the white shirt that Link last saw him in. Without hesitation, he walks to the milkshake machine behind the counter, pulls out three cups and starts filling them with chocolaty goodness. The trainee, who's name tag says his name is Vaati, scowls at him.

"Ghirahim, you're going to have to pay for those."

" _I didn't eat lunch today in anticipation of this, so you can choke on my dick, Vaati._ "

Link can't hold back the snort of amusement that bursts from him, and he peers around Zant to get a cautious view of the other boy. Ghirahim approaches the two of them, hands one milkshake to Zant, who sips at it happily, and then holds one out to Link.

Their eyes meet. Link takes in Ghirahim's neutral expression towards him. His hair tucked behind his ear. The bags under his eyes. The small bit of weight he's lost.

He's okay, but obviously not thriving.

Link takes the 'shake, and their fingers touch, but if Ghirahim notices, he doesn't comment on it.

"Come on, idiots."

"Bye, fucktard. Don't come back," Vaati interjects.

" _Is that what your mother told you this morning?_ " Ghirahim snaps back, and they leave the store.

Link trailed a little behind Zant and Ghirahim, watching as they gradually drew closer together. They were best friends, after all.

"I didn't know... you work here now?"

"It's a living, though a _boring_ one. The manager expects us to do _everything_ for him. I would have stayed at the mill... But I was tired of splinters, and it's... closer to my father," Ghirahim sighed. "Demise won't let me have a car. Let alone carry _my own fucking license_. You know how he is."

Zant nodded, unenthusiastic.

Link tries not to eavesdrop, but it's hard not to, so instead he examines the milkshake in his hands, trying to appear is if he isn't paying attention to them. Of course, he _knows_ what a milkshake is, he hasn't been living under a rock. He's just never had a chance to try one before, and his stomach seemed eager to finally consume some sugar, so he takes a hesitant sip.

When the chocolate hits his tongue, his eyes widen. Holy shit, this was really good. It was just the right amount of creamy but it was also had the right amount of _thickness_...

He's been missing out.

As they approached the car, Zant reaching the driver's side door, Ghirahim called shotgun, so Link had to climb into the backseat. Though he was pleased to find a warm blanket draped back there. With all the sugar in his system, at least he wouldn't fall asleep again.

"...I missed you. I'm sorry. About all of this," Zant said, softly into the car.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. _I'm gorgeous, the best and you're lucky to have me, you don't have to say it!"_

Zant outright snorted, trying to stop milkshake from coming out of his nose. And Ghirahim just smiled, like he understood completely.

" _Warehouse,_ come on! You _must_ know the drill by now, you dolt!"

Zant just nodded, still laughing, and started the car rhythmically, as if following the car manual instructions in his head. As soon as they were on the road, Ghirahim turned on the radio to classic rock, and they drove out of the city in style.

 **AN: Right! So! Here is a quick update, though there is another one that is coming tomorrow! Thank you to everyone who continues to review, because it truly does encourage me to update faster, knowing that there is, indeed, still an audience for this fics! Chapters should be rolling out a little faster and a little more regular now, aiming for once a week. And I promise you that I will not abandon this story! It shall be finished! :) Because I love these two idiots, haha! Anyway, be on the lookout later tonight for another update!**


	8. This Is Home

Link finished up his milkshake, staring at the empty cup in disappointment. Damn. That was some good shit, too bad it emptied so quickly. He set the cup down in the cup holder beside him before tugging the blanket over his lap, maneuvering his legs up onto the seat so that they were tucked beside him in a comfortable enough position to wipe the frost from his window and stare outside at the scenery flashing by. When had it started snowing? Link barely seemed to notice the harsh chills of January every year, and this one had proved to be no exception.

It was only after five minutes had passed that he began to wonder where exactly they were going. He blinked, turning to look at the back of Zant's head as he chewed on the words, unwilling to spit them out.

..Ghirahim had mentioned a warehouse, and Zant wasn't asking for directions, so obviously this was a common occurrence.. What if this was something that the two of them did together, as best friends, _alone_? Link didn't want to be an intruder…

Ghirahim glanced back at him while he anxiously mused, as if sensing his unease. He leaned his head back against the seat and smirked a little at Link's empty cup. Both his and Zant's were half-full. Clearly Link had needed the sugar.

" _Long time no see, I suppose, boy. Do I seem well enough for your satisfaction?_ "

Link blinked at him, fighting a faint dusting of pink on his face. His words fail him, but this time, fear wasn't the emotion clogging his throat. It was something that he couldn't recognize that seemed to strangle his vocal chords.

He gave Ghirahim a more thorough look this time, inspecting him. Ghirahim was _physically_ doing well, as far as Link could see. He was eating, clearly, and there were no bruises on his body. But that didn't prove that he was _happy_ at all, and that was what Link itched to know.

He let his eyes slide down to his cup, the movement shy as he plucked at the cover, tearing the thin plastic. He gave a shrug, and then a little shake of his head.

Why did it matter so much to him if Ghirahim was _happy_?! It should be enough to know that he's alright! Link shouldn't even care this much, considering that Ghirahim had been manipulating and pushing him around ever since he arrived at the Skyward household. And yet... he found himself fussing and shying away.

Ghirahim frowned at the, huffing. "I thought that we were _past_ the point that you refused to speak to me. Hm. How _tiresome_..." He rolled his eyes, focusing on the road again. "You sounded so _emotionally charged_ on the phone. It's a shame that you didn't keep that up. That would be _far_ more interesting..." Zant shot Ghirahim a look.

Link swallowed, opening his mouth and willing the words to fall out. Nothing. He chewed on his lip, staring back at his cup, and noticed that his hands were shaking a little. He stilled them.

This was ridiculous! He _knew_ Ghirahim! He's spoken to him before! This was the person who had left him.

The person who had wanted to see him again.

Nervous butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and he steeled himself.

"...sorry," he muttered, voice so quiet that Link wasn't even sure that it made it to the front seat. His nerves seemed to sky rocket.

He didn't get a reply. At least, not at first. Ghirahim merely looked back at him again. His eyes scanned Link up and down, narrowing slightly. He could see the gears turning behind his eyes, still, after all of this, trying to understand him. With all the knowledge that he had on Link's past, the advantage of unlocking his words, being the _only_ person who truly knew what was going on in Link's brain... he still didn't understand.

But he was trying.

"...You look _terrible_. But, with any luck, you'll snap out of this _ridiculous_ state soon... perhaps you just need a little _push_."

Unless Ghirahim decided to come home with them that night and to stop putting himself in danger by being around his father, Link highly doubted that he would just "snap out of it". But, nevertheless, Ghirahim's words lit a fire of curiosity inside of him, and he cleared his throat.

"...What are we doing?" he croaked softly.

Ghirahim smirked devilishly and started to chuckle. " _You'll see soon enough, boy._ " Seeming to find that a sufficient enough answer, Ghirahim then turned to Zant. "Did you bring what we need?"

Zant promptly nodded. "It's in the trunk. I put it in as soon as you called."

" _Excellent._ "

Link frowned in annoyance as Ghirahim continued conversing with Zant after giving him a vague as shit answer, and he muttered a sarcastic " _thanks_ " under his breath before he turned to stare out the window, trying to figure out where they were. He felt a small titter of fear. What if what they were planning on doing was hard for him, and he held them up? What if he was a complete embarrassment to both himself and to the older boys? What if he was absolute crap at it? He shrunk down in his seat at the thought.

But before Link could even feign to ask more questions, the car was olling to a stop in front of... a warehouse. He hadn't been expecting Ghirahim to have been so literal. But this was obviously what was intended, because they were getting out of the car. Zant seemed excited, his hands flapping again, and Ghirahim jumped out, smiling madly.

Was this safe? Link stared at them, hesitant to even get out of the car, and when he eventually did, he hung back, eyes flicking from the warehouse, to Zant, to Ghirahim, and then back to the warehouse.

He wasn't sure... Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he felt out of place, uncertain about what they were doing, and he almost wished that he had just stayed in his room, where he didn't have to run behind Ghirahim and Zant, stumbling to keep up with their fun. Zant opened the truck, and Ghirahim pulled a large tartan bag out of it, which he carried on one shoulder, and it clanked like it was full of loose metal. Zant then pulled out a medium-sized plastic bag before shutting the trunk.

As the two boys ran past, Ghirahim took Link's wrist, and they hurried towards the warehouse doors. " _Try to keep up, idiot!"_

Link's owl eyes immediately flickered to the ground as he focused on not tripping and falling over himself. He felt heat pool in his cheeks, and he struggled to keep up with the taller boy's quick pace. "Y-your legs are longer!" He protested, but Ghirahim neither responded or adjusted his speed to accommodate him.

His wrist was puzzlingly warm.

They stomped through the snow to the huge warehouse doors, though Link was surprised to see previous footprints leading there. They stopped at the entrance, huffing and panting, and Zant purposefully knocked a pattern on the iron door.

 _Dun, dun, dun. Dun-dun-dun-dun, dun dun._

A latch opened in the door, and eyes peered out at the three of them, before it shut and creaked open. Link swallowed and looked at Zant. He hadn't been told that they were going to see anybody other than Ghirahim... his nerves churned inside of him, stirring up the milkshake unpleasantly, and he inched behind Ghirahim almost unconsciously. Though he couldn't pull very far in any direction, with the hold that the taller boy still had on his wrist.

Link fucking sucked around strangers. Where were they? _Why_ were they here? Was this legal? Was there a _group_ of friends in there, that they were all going to hang out with? The thought alone made him light headed.

As they stepped in, they were first greeted by a dyed red-head wearing his long hair in dreadlocks, smiling crockery at all of them. "Well hello, gentleman! Good to see your fucked up faces again, Zant, Ghirahim..." His eyes landed on Link, whose stomach gave a lurch. "...And a newcomer! You'll be needing one of these, then..." The man, who _seemed_ about Zant's age, reached into a box next to his beanbag chair, and pulled out a piece of thin, green cloth. He handed it to Link, who took it hesitantly. "Think of it as a free gift! Green looks like your colour..."

Link swallowed again, clutching the cloth uncertainly. He didn't understand what the hell was going on, but he tried really hard to look like he did. He opened his mouth, intending to thank him, but the words clogged in his throat, and it was all he could do to simply nod and look down under the guise of studying the cloth. It was... a headband? But it was made of thinner, waterproof fabric that appeared like it would need to be stretched a bit to fit over his head.

The man seemed to spot his confusion and snickered. "It's a face shield, dumbass. Don't you know what kind of place you walked into? Or did these two kidnap you or something?" Link flushed in embarrassment. What was he even doing here? This had been a stupid idea, for Ghirahim and Zant to bring him here, and Link had half a mind to shrink back and bow out. He looked stupid.

"Go get stoned somewhere else, Yuga," Ghirahim snapped.

"I'll leave my post if you've got any good stuff."

With that, Zant handed him the bag he was holding. Yuga peeked in to see... food. Lots of it. Some wrapped sandwiches and a large, clear, frozen container of... the same soup Ghirahim had cooked for him last week. "Oh, fuck yeah! Hey jerks," he shouted into the rest of the building. "Ghirahim and Zant brought food!"

Link could hear a resounding cheer from deeper inside, and Yuga got up to carry the bag into another room. His heart beat faster. It sounded like there were a hell of a lot more people in here than he originally thought. Fuck.

He felt Ghirahim's hand squeeze his wrist from where he had still been holding it before letting go, and he pulled out two similar pieces of fabric to Link's own, the darker one of which he passed to Zant. His brother pulled the face shield over his head, smiling at Link before he pulled it up over his nose and mouth.

"It's okay! I promise it's safe." His voice came out muffled, but it sounded overjoyed. Ghirahim pulled on his own, a much more bright and sharp diamond-patterned one, and the two boys waited for Link to do the same. He stared at them, and then down at the fabric, conflicted. He was more than a little terrified, but he couldn't just leave and ruin their fun. Besides, he didn't have to talk to anybody. He just had to trail behind the two older boys and try not to be seen.

He swallowed. How hard could it be?

Link tried to hide his obvious unease as he lifted the face shield to his face and put it on, mimicking Zant and Ghirahim. Then, once it was properly in place, Ghirahim needing to free Link's ponytail from underneath it so that it fit properly, he was ready. Link tried not to focus on the feeling of Ghirahim's hand on the back of his neck, and he was suddenly grateful that the shield covered his blushing cheeks. In one fell swoop, Zant pulled back the curtain, and as Ghirahim nodded, Link stepped through.

It was an explosion of colour. The warehouse was massive, concrete walls stretched up to the sky. Link blinked in the glow of lanterns, tealights and candles, until he could clearly see the walls, and the people attached to them, and he gasped.

Murals. No, not just that. Graffiti, paintings, giant and abstract and realistic and _beautiful_ , every single one. On the far wall, with curling hair that nearly reached the ceiling, was an image of a golden-haired siren, sea shells and scales adorning her chest and tail so detailed and bright that you could almost touch them. On the left, names and faces and splashes of artistic, gorgeous colours. Everywhere Link looked, amazing, breathtaking _art_. And as he noted the young faces surrounding him, at least 30 people, all created by people under the age of 25. There were young women, men, some that defied binary. The youngest looked around 10, his face shield pulled up over his ears to fit.

Offset from all the paint, there were small wooden tables of packaged food. Desserts, mostly. In the corners of the building were space heaters, and blankets and mattresses, and as Ghirahim shed his jacket, Link realized that it was plenty warm enough in her to take off his clothes from outside.

Some people waved, and Zant waved back, then turned to Link with gleeful energy. "What do you think?"

Link turned to Zant with wide eyes, full of admiration and absolute, gawking awe. He could only blink at his older brother for a moment. "It's... _gorgeous._ " His eyes did another sweeping round of the room. "I never would have guessed that..." he trailed off, amazed and slightly overwhelmed at the gorgeous art.

Wow. This was... absolutely incredible.

Ghirahim set down his jacket among the pile of outerwear on the floor. Then, he picked up the tartan bag again, which Link realized was full of cans of paint. He was smirking. "What, _pray tell_ , is so surprising? Were you _so_ convinced that Zant and I were getting drunk every weekend?" Ghirahim asked, and on the surface, it seemed like an innocent question, but in his eyes, Link could see the weight of Gaepora's expectations of him, based on the actions of an alcoholic father.

Link shook his head quickly, peering up at Ghirahim. "No! No, I ... I don't know. I always thought of you as the... vandalism bad-ass kid that would rather... spray paint walls and break fences and trespass..." Link trailed off, realizing how stupid he sounded. But that was what he had pictured! How was he supposed to know what Ghirahim and Zant snuck off to do in the middle of the night?

Ghirahim's smirk widened, an impression in his face shield, and he chuckled darkly. " _Flattery_ will get you nowhere... But you'd be _right,_ boy." He pulled a can of spray-paint out of the tartan bag. "I simply prefer to break down _metaphysical_ fences, and use vandalism to create things such as _her_ ," Ghirahim gestured to the gorgeous siren, and Link can't stop his mouth from falling open.

... _What?_

"It's true! I helped with the scales..." Zant stated.

Link stared at the painting for a long moment before he whipped around to stare at Ghirahim.

"...no way," he breathed, unable to stop himself from twisting to admire the siren again. He tried to imagine Ghirahim painting that thing. Holy fucking shit, that was... that's crazy. "Can... can I go closer?"

Ghirahim merely chuckled, his hips swaying with pride as he walked towards the painting. As they passed by, Link could see a small, separate room with a stove, a sink, a freezer and shelves. Yuga was heating up the soup in a large pot, stirring it vigilantly.

The closer they got, Zant trailing happily behind Link, the more impressed the youngest boy got. Each scale of the siren's tail was the size of his hand, and there must have been hundreds, all painted and shaded perfectly. Her pristine blue eyes were the size of his head. Her falling tendrils of soft hair were the size of tree trunks.

Leaned against the wall was a ladder, fit with wheels at the top and bottom for easy maneuvering. That must have been how Ghirahim had been able to paint while so high up... wow. Link tilted his head back, craning so that he could see as much as he could, unable to drink enough of it. He longed to reach out and touch it. He almost did, before pulling his hand away at the last second, scared of somehow messing it up. Instead, he let his eyes scan it, and wandered back and forth so that he could view it all.

Near the base of her tail, he could see Ghirahim and Zant's signatures, written in paint with broad strokes. He recognized Ghirahim's cursive from his note... the one he had written about Link being afraid of him. So it was true... Ghirahim had created this, with Zant's help.

Craning his neck back once more to peer up at her face, then looking back down again, he watched as Ghirahim took a small bucket, a can of paint, and a large paintbrush from the tartan bag, and turned to chuckle at him. "You'll catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that. You look _ridiculous_."

Link flushed and quickly snapped his mouth shut, but he couldn't stop the flow of warmth that blossomed from his chest as Ghirahim teased him. This was... nice. He was happy to be here, and to be able to see _this.._. a place where both Zant and Ghirahim were clearly comfortable.

Wandering just a little way away, Link found a place where he could sit down and watch Ghirahim, energy low from this sudden shift in activity after over a week in a slump, sitting in his room like an unproductive grease demon... in other words, this was the most excitement and exercise that he has had since Ghirahim left. He stayed quiet for a moment, eyeing Ghirahim's supplies, before he asked, "What are you going to do?"

The boy sighed heavily. "I fear that I'll _never_ be fully finished. I've been adding pearls to her necklace for _quite_ some time now. We ran out of the perfect colour, so I had to work some extra hours to afford more..." Ghirahim spoke oddly quietly, something about his sight captured by the siren, his eyes trained to her face. Link listened, intrigued. Obviously, the painting was important to him, to spend so much time, effort and money on it.

Zant went to the ladder, preparing to hold it steady for him, as Ghirahim popped open the paint can with the end of his paintbrush, pouring the creamy white carefully into the base of the bucket.

"How many pearls are you planning on giving her?" Link asked, hesitating only a moment before adding his current thoughts to the mix. "She seems..." The word gets chewed on for a good moment before he settles. "...Significant to you." The statement was left vague in the hopes that an explanation would be given.

There was a long pause in between Link's statement and his response. "Fifty-six, in total. I've completed thirty-one. Quite obviously, not all of them will be done tonight..." Ghirahim chewed over Link's other baited statement, which he elected to ignore, somewhat... "...Her name was Hylia," he said, before closing the can, dipping his brush in the bucket, and preparing to climb the ladder. Link immediately sat upright, his hands falling onto his lap as he stared curiously at Ghirahim, his gaze searching, prodding for answers.

 _Her name was Hylia_... an emotion that he didn't recognize, that he didn't like, rose inside of him and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Link watched the way that Ghirahim observed the painting, with such a soft affection and bitter longing… before he can stop, he heard words tumbling out of his mouth. "Was she a past girlfriend?"

Oh, god... he sounded snippy. He hadn't meant to, but the sounds had been sharp and accusing when they hit the air. The question caught Ghirahim so off-guard that he almost dropped his paint. Then, the laughter bursts free, and his shoulders are shaking, and he's doubled over with one hand still on the ladder.

" _J-Jesus Fucking Christ,_ NO. What kind of lovesick fool do you take me for, you imbecile?! And _besides_ ," he continued, wheezing in a breath and drying his eyes. "Why would that be _any_ business of _yours_?!"

Link turned away, shrugging in embarrassment, and flushed a bright red. The tips of his ears coloured as he struggled to not die right then and right there. "It was just a question," he muttered, voice sulky. He didn't know why he had asked such a personal question, nor why it had seemed to matter so much to him in the moment. Who cared if Ghirahim had ever had a girlfriend, or if he was even in a current relationship?

His fingers found a stray pebble on the ground beside his leg, and he plucked at it, flicking it away. He tried to convince himself that he had just been wondering if Ghirahim even bothered with long-term relationships, but even that logic was fuzzy. He fought the impulse to think harder on the dream he'd had.

 _No. That never happened_.

"No... she meant far more to me than just _simple_ affections," Ghirahim rasped, and his comedic moment was back to being drained of colour. This time, he climbed the ladder, Zant holding it fast. Link watched him climb, struggling to figure him out. If she meant more to him than simple affection, but she wasn't a girlfriend, then who was she? A best friend? An older sister?

...His mother?

Link wracked his brain, trying to figure out if anybody had ever mentioned Ghirahim's mom. Link had heard a fuck ton about his father, of course, but... never his mother. Curiosity was a gentle wave inside of him, and he leaned against the wall as he watched the older boy work. If it _was_ his mother, Link can only imagine that Ghirahim has nothing but anguish as his motivation for such an honoring piece of art work. He can guess what had happened, and his stomach lurched at the thought.

He knew what it felt like to lose a mother, and it was the most horrid feeling in the world. Did Link dare ask him about the identity of the siren? He wasn't sure if it would be right to. If their roles were reversed, would he want someone to ask? Perhaps, depending on the person, and if it gave him the chance to honor her memory. God, it's a tough call to make. In the meantime, he watched Ghirahim paint. He leaned over with graceful arms, his face mere inches from the concrete that is his canvas, making sure no detail, no rock or crevice or crack interferes with the image he's trying to create.

Link thought that he should ask about it. There's no harm in trying, and if he doesn't pry, it should be fine. The care that Ghirahim takes with his painting made Link believe that a chance to share her story would be a welcome opportunity.

He sat in his position against the wall for a long, simply watching Ghirahim work, and Zant dutifully holding the ladder. He completely loses track of how long they had been there for, and, eventually, Link's head lolled against the wall, and his eyes drooped. His current lack of sleep had really caught up to him, and his body seemed to have decided to seize this opportunity for re-energizing while it could.

Deep in the reaches of his dreams, Link barely perceived someone shaking him, trying to wake him. That shaking progressed into complaints and near-shouts, but still to no avail. So, when Link attained the slightest hint of consciousness again, all he felt was somebody carrying him. For a moment, his instincts screamed for him to stand up, not liking the feeling of weightlessness, but then a sense of shock paralyzed him as he realized something.

Zant wasn't strong enough to carry him. _Ghirahim_ , on the other hand, was; he was able to drag Link home through four feet of snow.

Ghirahim was... really warm. And soft. Link mumbled an incoherent expression of gratitude as he continued to drift in and out of consciousness, fingers drowsily grasping at what he thought was probably the other boys' shirt but couldn't claim with complete certainty due to his current state. He just hoped to god that he didn't get dropped.

When he felt cold air whisk onto his face, he cringed inwards, the bite of it making him more aware. He felt a jostling, as though Ghirahim was hurrying, and his grip on the warmth he's resting in tightened. But soon enough he was being sheltered from the wind... at the cost of being let go.

 _No... this is really nice... don't let me goooo…_

Link let out a long, tired whine, and he reached up to firmly wrap his arms around a neck. He held on tight, determined to stay with this comforting warmth for as long as he possibly can. He felt the body he's pressed against heave a deep sigh, and somewhere in his peripherals he heard laughter. Slowly, and with some struggle, the warmth sat close to him, and with a slam Link could no longer hear the wind. He shifted slightly at the seatbelt being buckled, and someone buckling their own, but he relaxed into a firm chest as the motor ran underneath his feet, and they became home-bound. Quickly the small boy was lulled into a happy sleep.

...When Link woke up, the car was slowing to a halt. When he blinked open his eyes, peering out the window, he saw that they were close to a house that he didn't recognize. But Ghirahim was zipping up his jacket and running an anxious hand through his hair.

This was his stop.

Link wondered dimly if there was anything he could possibly do to convince him to stay. His heart already twisted painfully as it readied itself. He struggled to wake u further, blinking furiously to rid himself of the blurriness, hair ruffled, hands clutching tightly at Ghirahim's jacket.

"...You're... leaving again? Please, don't," he stumbled through sleep-heavy lips. "You can come home with ..us. Gaepora won't mind." _I'm worried about you_.

"I can't, boy," he rasped. Link thought it would hurt more if he had stayed his dramatic, loud self. But this factual, simple speech was what had him struggling to hold himself together. "I just can't."

"But-… we had fun. You… don't hate me anymore, and-" his voice wobbled as a defeated aura seeped from him. Fists reached up to rub the sleep from his tired eyes, and his words fell into plea. "I thought we might- that we could become friends. P-please don't go back to his house, please come back home."

"Living here has _nothing_ to do with that, idiot... just go back to sleep. _I can't stay_." Ghirahim sighed. He pulled himself away from Link's grip, and the boy tried not to look as hurt and heartbroken as he felt, his face crumbling into disappointment. He swallowed hard, turning to face the window, trying to stop himself from shattering into pieces all over again. This time hurt more than the last time, a sharp stinging pain from a knife dipped in salt.

"...At least tell me who the siren is..." His voice was quiet, impossibly empty and full of injury at the same time. Ghirahim's hand was tightly gripping the handle when Link said this. Zant shot the both of them a concerned look from the front of the car.

It took what felt like eons. "...My mother... she was murdered when I was six years old."

Link gasped.

"...Is that what you _longed_ to hear? Is that what you were greedy, _begging_ to know? We only found out about her passing when her _corpse washed up from the river, full of holes and rot_ …" The older boy was shaking, and Link couldn't blame him. "So, _forgive me for staying with my father, when he is the only one who understands what that fucking felt like! Good night!_ " Ghirahim stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind himself.

Zant stayed, watching until he was safely inside without hassle, before even beginning to start the car, while Link could only hold back tears, hit by wave after wave of guilt. It seemed like whenever he managed to make even the slightest bit of progress with Ghirahim, he found some way to fuck it all up entirely. He wished he hadn't asked. Skinny arms wrapped around his legs, pulling them up onto the seat with him, and he tried not to be sick at both the forced imagery of Ghirahim's mother in a stream, and his own memories of his parents.

Zant was quiet on the way back home. He drove slowly, and Link ignored the sound of Ghirahim's paint clanking together in the trunk. When they got back, it was almost 4:00am, and all that the two of them could do was trudge upstairs for bed.

But before he left for his own room, Zant pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry. Be safe. Sleep well... I love you, baby brother."

Link's eyes filled with tears at the sweet term of endearment, and he hugged Zant back with vigor, nodding and managing to mumble a return good-night through the lump in his throat. He waited until he had left for his own room before softly closing his door, trudging to his bed, and collapsing, thoroughly exhausted.


End file.
